


Five-a-Side

by ForNought



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Hockey, Modern AU, but there is a fairly violent scene, girls hitting stuff with big sticks, i don't know anything about hockey though, nothing awful happens to the mains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForNought/pseuds/ForNought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forming a team was Christa's big, stupid idea, except Mikasa, Sasha and Ymir eventually stop thinking of it as a stupid idea. None of them really even knew anything about hockey but they some how ended up actually caring about improving and playing in their spare time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Early Saturday mornings were not really Ymir's thing. 

She could deal with early mornings on weekdays, in fact she usually woke up with enough time to go on a run before school, but the weekends were reserved for lie-ins and lazy days. Unfortunately for Ymir, she didn't get half as many lie-ins as she wanted since she started living with Christa. This morning was one of those mornings where she started to resent the fact that Christa and her mother took Ymir in to live in something more comfortable and stationary than a temperamental car. 

Ymir couldn't resist glaring at Christa from the corner of her eye, though the shorter girl was pointedly ignoring Ymir and practically skipping down the high street as the pair of them weaved between clusters of families crazy enough to go shopping so early in the morning. As early as it was, there was a chill in the air and Ymir contemplated offering Christa her coat. She was comfortably toasty in her trusty old fur coat, but Christa's bare arms and legs must have been feeling the chill, however Christa had refused all the other times the coat was offered and Ymir was beginning to think Christa had something against her coat. 

It was early and cold, and Christa's shorts and T-shirt were doing nothing to tempt the sun from behind the clouds, but somehow it was late enough in the day for teenagers to start gathering in front of the McDonalds in the middle of the high street. Ever since Ymir had come to this town she had always wondered what the deal was with people hanging around outside McDonalds, but she eventually deduced that as there was nothing else to do, self-important teenagers gathered to the town's greasy, artery-clogging symbol of youth. 

Some of the clusters of teens were sharing McDonalds breakfasts and the smell wafting over from the front of the restaurant was permeating the air for the high street and making Ymir's stomach churn and rumble. She was starving and she had neglected to eat breakfast after Christa kept loudly singing off-key and kicking Ymir until she dragged herself to the shower. As desperate as Ymir's stomach was for some form of sustenance, Christa kept on skipping past the huddles of teens outside McDonalds and Ymir didn't even ask whether they could pop in to buy some fries or something. Perhaps it was something to do with past experience telling Ymir it wouldn't be worth it, and not a moment after polishing off a burger she would be hungry again, or it could have been the side-long glances Christa was attracting that looked too close to leers for comfort. 

The quicker they could get past these kids and their eyes that begged to devour the small, fey, blonde, the better in Ymir's opinion. Once they walked past the crowd that was starting to thicken out as gaudily dressed teens approached their friends, Ymir pulled up the collar of her fur coat to disguise her sigh of relief. Quite often there were people who approached Christa, using hollowly sycophantic words for a chance to get the girl, but this time nobody bothered her - and by extension nobody bothered Ymir either. At least that was something. 

Still, Ymir yawned widely and looked askance at Christa as the shorter girl withdrew her phone from her pocket and replied to a text with agile thumbs as she managed to walk without bumping into anybody. It was a skill Ymir was impressed by, though she was even more eager to learn how to reach Christa's level in trying to keep someone out of the loop. 

It was apparently of the utmost importance that they went out that morning and Christa had been keeping quiet about why. Ymir had the sneaking suspicion it was because this would be something she had absolutely no interest in. If there was a chance of Ymir saying no to something, the likelihood was that Christa wouldn't let her say otherwise. The thing was, Ymir would probably do whatever it was anyway, as long as Christa asked, it would just involve a lot of complaining. 

Waiting for them at a table against the wall in a cafe was the girl Christa knew from the stables where she had a part-time job and, "Hot Drunk Girl," Ymir remembered aloud. 

Hot Drunk Girl frowned at that address, though it was only a subtle deepening of the crease between her eyebrows. 

"I wasn't drunk," she mumbled at the table. 

The other girl was keenly watching the situation unfold as she scooped a forkful of egg and chips into her mouth. Of course, that wasn't going to excuse her from the observation Ymir made as Christa sat opposite her at the table. Ymir had a bit more trouble pulling out her chair, and she would have appreciated someone telling her she had to lift the chair legs over the table's spread feet, though when she was finally seated she pointed to the half-empty plate of food before the girl from the stables and said, "Nice to know you're kind enough to wait for us, gutsy." 

"Ymir," Christa chided gently. 

"What? I'm just saying, it's a bit rude not to wait for everyone else."

"You'd know all about being rude, wouldn't you." Christa pushed her chair out and stood abruptly before looking around the table and asking, "Would anybody like me to order anything for them?"

"No," Ymir said airily as the two girls across the table also declined the offer. 

"Why are you complaining if you didn't want anything anyway?" Christa muttered. Ymir just grinned at the lack of real irritation in the girl's voice and Christa made her way over to the counter to place an order.

"Is that real fur?" the girl next to Hot Drunk Girl asked. 

"Fox," Ymir confirmed. "You wanna try?"

"No thank you." She looked as though she wanted to say something else but restrained herself by thoughtfully chewing another mouthful of food. Ymir wasn't one to force others to talk though, so she simply shrugged and looked over to Hot Drunk Girl with a grin. 

"You have any idea why we've all been gathered here today?"

"Yes, I do. Christa wanted us to be here."

"Right. But I mean like why?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

Ymir shrugged and Hot Drunk Girl's face pulled into an irate expression for just a second.

"We go to the same school as you. Do you know either of our names?"

"Sooty and Sweep?" Hot Drunk Girl made the same face again. "Izzy wizzy let's get busy? No?" 

"I get the reference. I'm sure we both do, I just don't think it's funny."

Ymir grinned wider to hide her distaste at having to sit at a table with two apparently humourless girls. She leaned back in her chair and cupped her hands behind her head as she waited for Christa's return. When she finally did return, her explanation for the gathering made Ymir grind her teeth together. 

"You see," Christa said gently with her head tilted to the right as she tucked a lock of flaxen hair behind her ear. "I was a bit curious, and I knew your coat wasn't the only thing you managed to get away with when you came here. So I thought it would be good for you to make some new friends, and I had always been meaning to get into a sport. You already have the equipment to play hockey, and it is obviously well-loved, so why don't we all play together?" 

"You're kidding, right?"

"Sports is a great way to bond. Plus I feel that hockey would be good for your anger problems."

"No, not... You went looking in my car?"

"You were in the car with me. I even mentioned the hockey sticks to you and you went, 'uh, yeah, I used to play or something'." 

Ymir had to admit the impression was pretty spot on, probably. She couldn't recall that ever happening but, from the slouch and the drawling tone, Ymir supposed she must have been half asleep at the time. It must have been something Christa had been mulling over for a couple of months now, a discovery made before she invited Ymir out of the car and into the warmth of an actual house. But she never actually played hockey. 

Christa was hopefully looking her way with a need for Ymir to be reliable in her big blue eyes, and the almost coquettish tilt of the girl's chin sent Ymir's stomach swooping and some muscles lower down clenching with want. 

It was a fact that along with her car and her coat, she had brought a bag of high quality hockey equipment but she had never actually played. It was more of a cover story for when her family questioned her absences at odd hours of the day and night. Sometimes the stick came in handy if she was having a bit of trouble with somebody and she'd even wear the shin-pads if she woke up feeling like that was the day someone would kick her in the shins. But now this was a cover story she'd have to tell Christa just so she wouldn't turn an expression of disappointment on Ymir. Somehow Ymir was going to have to learn the rules of hockey. 

 

*

 

"When you hit the ball, make sure it doesn't come too high off the ground. Try to keep it rolling and only let it lift when you're going for a goal," Ymir instructed the three girls who were looking up to her in excitement and interest the very next day. 

It was kind of cute how Mikasa and Christa where wearing mismatched exercise clothes that had clearly been worn for less than twenty minutes before today. Sasha was even wearing her school P.E. kit. Ymir was sure this would be the first and only hockey lesson at the park that she would be teaching, so she hadn't bothered to do more than read-up on the rules on the internet. As long as she put effort into pretending to know enough to tire the rest of the girls out, she would be fine.

She'd handed out the two hockey sticks in her bag and doubted these lessons would last long enough to leave any scratches or dents in the blue carbon shaft of the stick. Whether this was the last lesson or not, Ymir definitely wanted to minimise the damage these girls could do to one another - the damage that she would probably be held accountable for.

Sasha's brows furrowed as she listened to Ymir's instruction and then she had a practice swing. Ymir winced as Mikasa and Christa flinched away. Hopefully they'd all realise it would be a bit too dangerous for them to regularly dedicate time to this. 

"You're not golfing," Ymir said. "Keep the maximum height of your backswing around knee-height."

"Like this?" Sasha asked as she slowly lifted her stick so the curved head was just below Christa's kneecap. 

"Uh, maybe keep the sticks away from each other. We don't want any casualties so soon."

"How much is the protective equipment? I'm assuming goalies need more expensive stuff like body padding and masks," Christa said as she held the second of the hockey sticks and gently swung it around her feet.

"It's a lot if you want the good stuff," Ymir guessed. "I suppose if we all band together we can get the rest of you kitted out."

"Should we try to get matching equipment. You know, to look like a real team," MIkasa suggested. 

"Oooh!" Christa squealed, grabbing Mikasa's hand and almost thwacking her in the back with the hockey stick. Luckily she dropped it before her next attempt to grab Mikasa's hands and dance around. "How great would that be if we all had matching uniforms. It would be really cool, wouldn't it, Ymir!"

"Uh, I guess."

"Well you think it would be cool, don't you, Sasha?"

"Yeah, that would be really quite nice."

"Really quite nice," Mikasa repeated with a teasing lilt.

"Fantastic," Christa exclaimed. "Fantastic."

"You'd have to learn how to play first," Ymir muttered. 

"Well we're learning, aren't we?"

"I suppose."

Sasha and Mikasa did not quite look as though they were really learning anything about hockey but they seemed to be enthused by Christa's presence alone. If this actually took off, if they became a team, maybe they could utilise Christa's optimism and enthusiasm to cheat their way into winning. Just seeing how genuinely excitable about the whole thing made even Ymir want everything to work out well for the four of them. They would move on from awkwardly standing around in the park to playing on actual pitches against other actual teams. 

Aside from the meagre amount of knowledge Ymir was able to impart, just some basics covering the fact it was basically football with sticks and a smaller ball, they didn't do much at the park. They ended up sitting in the corner of the Chicken Cottage near the stables where Christa and Sasha worked. Sasha seemed eager to spend every penny of her pay on her teammates in celebration of a successful practice. 

"That was just an introductory lesson though, right?" Mikasa asked as she helped herself to a fried chicken drumstick. "Next time we will have a proper warm-up and cool-down, and we will do some drills like practicing dribbles and tackles, won't we?"

"Do you want to teach the lesson?" Ymir sneered. 

Mikasa just stared at Ymir through dark eyes, chewing slowly, before shaking her head. "No. I'm not the expert."

"I thought so."

"We will also have to think about getting equipment for the rest of us too, really. We can't have a proper practice without each of us being properly able to play," Sasha worried. 

"Good thinking," Christa nodded as she laid out two pieces of chicken on some napkins. "How much do you think sticks are?"

"The really good ones are hundreds," Ymir replied quickly. She knew at least this much, having actually bought some high quality sticks. 

"I know we're taking this seriously, but that might be a bit much for the rest of us," Christa said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, some of us are barely on minimum wage," Sasha agreed.

"Well we can look around. There will definitely be somewhere that sells them for under fifty. Maybe thirty? We can look in Sports Direct after school tomorrow."

"Only for a couple of hours," Sasha hummed thoughtfully. "I have a shift at the stables tomorrow evening."

Ymir rested her chin in her hands and rapped her knuckles on the table as she appraised the girl opposite her. Christa had a part-time job at the stables too but she didn't work half as many shifts as Sasha did. Sasha was inching closer and closer to full-time work every week by the sounds of it. If she was so desperate to work all the time, was she really going to dedicate time to playing on an amateur hockey team? Clearly this wasn't something too serious. It would be fine.

Christa and Mikasa set to work, acting more like it was fun than something too serious, as they compiled a list of all the things they would need to buy. They asked Sasha for her suggestions as well as asking her to get them refills of their drinks. From time to time they asked Ymir whether they had missed anything but she could hardly think of anything extra. She didn't know anything about hockey - or at least she didn't know anything that the other girls didn't know. She simply shrugged and told them the list was fine. If there was really anything more, she would probably bring it up tomorrow. 

After she dropped Mikasa and Sasha off at their homes, Ymir was alone with Christa in her lime-green Vauxhall Corsa. They were waiting for the traffic lights to turn green when Christa spoke up. 

"You've been lying all weekend, haven't you." It was a statement, not a question and suddenly Ymir wished she wasn't behind the wheel of a car. She wished her hands weren't sweating and her mouth wasn't dry and her heart wasn't pounding through her chest because she knew exactly what Christa meant. 

"I don't know what you mean."

"Seems like it is a habit that doesn't stop." 

"I'm sorry?"

"No you're not." Ymir chanced a peek in Christa's direction to see she was half-smiling. It didn't seem as though Ymir was in trouble, but Christa's expression suggested that she had suspected all along that Ymir was a big fat liar. The lights went green and Ymir pushed down the handbrake as she returned her attention to the road. Christa continued, "In all honesty I could have taught that lesson. I did a bit of reading up on Hockey and I could have worked out 'it's a bit like football with sticks' all by myself." 

"Oh."

"It's okay. it's fine. I don't really get why you went along with the whole hockey thing if you didn't really play. I guess Mikasa's on to you as well."

"So I guess that's the end of that and I will beg for your forgiveness and our lives will return to normal?"

"Why would you say that? You were enjoying yourself today, I saw it. You don't know anything about hockey, but you looked like you were having the absolute most fun in the park earlier."

"I wasn't having fun," Ymir mumbled.

"Yes you were. And I was having fun, and Mikasa was having fun, and Sasha was having the time of her life."

"The time of her life, huh? Good for her."

"And the rest of us," Christa insisted. "We're going shopping for equipment tomorrow and we're going to arrange more practices."

"Do we have to?" 

Christa didn't say anything for a long time and Ymir glanced at the other girl to see her squinting and pouting with a great deal of effort. Despite the fact it looked as though she was constipated it was actually adorable. She was twisted in her seat to face Ymir and her thin arms were crossed over her chest as she continued to screw her face up.

Ymir took a stabilising breath and definitely did not laugh as she kept her eyes on the road. This wasn't a laughing matter. Not really. Unless Christa was trying to be funny by pretending to sulk. It seemed like the kind of thing she would do - try to make Ymir feel as though whatever she had done was not all that wrong because it was exactly what she had wanted. 

For the months that Ymir had known Christa she had seen the girl as an enigma. She couldn't understand Christa's motives and her baseless kindness that was given to Ymir in great dollops. She was just awkwardly accepting the niceties and wondering what the catch was. If gaining a new hobby was the catch, Ymir would begrudgingly accept that, but she was certain, after seventeen years of experience in dealing with people, that there was always a bigger catch. 

It was hard to envision a bigger catch with the way Christa was pulling her face into an adorably hideous expression.

With an exaggerated sigh, Ymir said, "I guess I'm not doing anything else after school." 

"I thought as much," Christa said, her nose scrunching up in satisfaction before she returned to her natural expression. She sat forwards in her seat and started messing with the car radio and grinned as Ymir endured Christa's music taste until they got home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's quite difficult to play any five-a-side sport with only four people in a team so Mikasa sets about recruiting the only person she could think of.

Soaked with sweat and burning all over, Mikasa threw herself onto the grass. Her lungs were burning worst of all but she still wanted to laugh. Her chest was heaving with the effort of taking in any oxygen and tiredness had settled on her right down to her bones. Even with these half-hearted lessons from Ymir - who was no expert at hockey at all - Mikasa was exhausted. The good kind of exhausted where the other girls were just as tired as she was and they were having fun pretending that they were anything like a team. 

She liked it, her, Christa, Ymir and Sasha spending days together, messing around as though this could really become something, as though they could actually form a proper team. It was different to the time she used to spend with Eren and Armin. They interacted in a way that sometimes made Mikasa feel superfluous. It was something she could handle because they often relied on her and they needed her. But they gradually stopped needing her so much and it was her who needed them. She was still hoping that one day they would start needing her again, though.

Perhaps her life would have gone differently if she had never tried to get over her jealousy for the fact that Annie fit in a bit better than her. Perhaps if Mikasa had held on to her feelings of bitterness she could have just hated Annie and felt sorry for Armin who was hopelessly in love with her. Perhaps she could have ignored Annie's existence while she was pressed against Eren on the sofa, the perfect completion Eren had apparently been looking for. 

But she tried to be adult about things. She told Eren she loved him and would always be there for him, she made him angry. She got angry. She got drunk. She spent a night being stupid. She woke up next to an ostentatious bright green car that was searing itself onto her eyeballs the instant she cracked her eyes open. 

She remembered the expression on the face of the girl who was leaning out of the car window to stare down at her. When she opened her eyes this time, Ymir was making the same curious expression. At least this time Ymir wasn't wearing her stupid fur coat and inviting her into her car for 'a great ride to nowhere' - eyebrows wiggling suggestively all the while. 

"You look good like that, you know," Ymir drawled. 

"Shut up."

"The feistiness just makes you the whole package, you know."

Mikasa sat up and crossed her legs just to make sure she could still move them. She watched as Christa dove into her bag to retrieve the drinks and Tupperware tub of fruit she had brought to share with everyone. It was always odd that they went through this ritual at the end of practice when most days saw the four of them pile into Ymir's stupid green car and drive to the chicken shop to gorge themselves on fried chicken and hot wings. 

Amateur training and a very unsportsman-like diet were one thing, but Christa seemed serious about this, and Sasha was at least serious enough about this to cut down on her hours working at the stables. Mikasa was sort of serious about this too because she enjoyed spending time with these girls. She enjoyed idle chatter about boobs and periods and shoes despite the initial blushing and awkwardness from being around conversation like that. She hadn't been used to that sort of thing at all and she wondered how the first proper female friends she had were three girls with varying degrees of being a little bit too open about private matters. Not that it bothered her too much these days. She was just as bad as the rest of them when it came to talking about feeling constipated after not getting enough fruit and vegetables in her diet. 

"For a while I have been wondering how we would fare against a proper team," Sasha said as she nibbled a slice of apple.

"Me too," Christa nodded seriously. "We are definitely improving, but it would be great to try competing."

"I wonder if there are any local teams." 

"I'm sure there must be some. If there aren't we could always ask some people from school and see if they would play against us." 

"No," Mikasa said quickly, firmly. This was there thing and she definitely didn't want a whole other group of people getting involved. Christa and Sasha were frowning at Mikasa as though it was strange of her to think this way and it hurt a little bit to think that they didn't think things were fine as they were. "I just..." 

"Yeah, we don't need to do anything like that," Ymir said as though she didn't even care about the words that came out in a lazy drawl. "We can just start researching other teams later. We don't want to turn this into something else, like regular joint practices, and I highly doubt Sasha will be able to afford dinner for us and the school team." 

"I'd have to buy food for them too?" 

"But if we want to start playing other teams I'd suggest we tried to get another member. Just one more person, because I don't think I have ever heard of four-a-side teams." 

Ymir had moved to flop back onto the grass, balancing her hockey stick across her stomach and seemed as though she didn't particularly care much about anything. But she had made a suggestion that saved Mikasa from having to muddle her way through whatever she was trying to say. She didn't even really know, but whatever she would have said would have sounded childish and entitled. 

In addition to sort of saving her some embarrassment, Ymir had given her an idea. Sasha and Christa were murmuring together, considering mutual acquaintances they knew, whether they were from school or the stables they worked at, but Mikasa already knew who their fifth team mate would be. 

"I know someone who is amazing at hockey and I'm sure I could get her to join our team," Mikasa announced. 

"Really, who?" Christa asked with excitement flickering in her eyes. 

Mikasa nodded towards Sasha as she said, "Annie."

Sasha looked both enthused and concerned over the choice but at least she confirmed to Christa and Ymir that Annie would be a good idea.

 

*

 

Mikasa stayed at school for the sole task of catching Annie at the end of hockey practice. About half an hour before everyone would be sent off the school grounds, she wandered over to the Astroturf where the hockey team practiced, plonked herself on the bench outside the changing rooms, and watched. Most of the players were wearing their ordinary school P.E. kit, though there were a few members strutting around the caged Astroturf in their match-day green. They were too cocky and far too complacent. Mikasa knew she could best any of these if she went up against them one on one. She'd win against a whole team of them. 

Annie was easy to spot. She was standing mostly apart from the others, leaning on her stick rather than getting involved. She'd say yes to Mikasa. Annie needed challenges in her life. 

As much as Mikasa wanted to keep an eye on Annie, watching the bored blonde girl was getting tiresome. Every now and then, her eyes drifted over to the nearest sports field where, today, the rugby team was apparently practicing. Mikasa didn't know much about rugby, but it didn't look much like practice. There just seemed to be a group of boys running around and whooping in response to a story that one of the boys was telling. It was stupid. 

Mikasa couldn't hear much, but some voices carried quite far and she definitely heard someone mention Christa. Nice to know that instead of actually practicing, the rugby team would rather gossip about girls. Overconfidence was a common thread throughout the official sports teams at Trost High school. It would be nice if someone could take them down a few pegs, though it would not be so nice if that person was Mikasa. 

She tried to focus on the hockey team and ignored the rugby players at the end of their practice as the rabble trooped over to the changing rooms. Some of them might have even tried to speak to Mikasa, but if there was one thing she was good at it was ignoring people. Within a few seconds, they were all gone and the heavy door to the changing rooms had clanged shut and sealed the sound of the rugby team within. The hockey players suddenly noticed the lack of ruckus - though Mikasa was curious as to how the quiet was really that much more conspicuous than the noise they had been making - and their coaches sent them inside for the end of the day.

Mikasa jumped up from the bench and made a grab at Annie's sleeve before she could get much further than the gate to the Astroturf. She glared up at the other girl but Mikasa simply said, "We should talk."

It was a long shot, but Annie shrugged and followed. Another girl seemed to follow at a distance until Annie looked over her shoulder to send her off. Mikasa had seen that girl around before. She was quite good at hockey too but it was obvious she wasn't entirely focused on playing the sport, even on the pitch. She went with just a nod from Annie, though, and Mikasa wondered what was going on there. That wasn't what she was here for though and she immediately launched into politely asking Annie to join the 5-a-side hockey team.

"Hockey?" Annie asked. There was barely a hint of inflection in her voice but Mikasa could tell it was meant to be a question because of how unimpressed she looked, cocking her hips and staring up from below raised eyebrows. "Like, the thing with the sticks?"

"You know, I find it impossible to believe that you don't know what hockey is considering the fact you're on the school hockey team and you are currently holding a hockey stick."

Annie glanced down at the stick she was holding and shrugged. "I was just wondering whether you knew what hockey was."

"Obviously I do. Why would I be starting a team if I didn't know what it was?"

"You don't really strike me as being the sharpest knife in the draw. Besides, if you want to play hockey so badly, why don't you just join the school team?"

"Because I don't want to play with y-" Mikasa just managed to catch herself before she finished that sentence with 'you', though Annie smirked as though she knew exactly how it would end anyway. 

The longer Mikasa stayed quiet, and scrambled for something to say, the wider Annie's grin got, and that was something Mikasa really didn't want to see. She didn't want to be belittled, or mocked, or asked why she was so goddamn jealous. She only wanted to do something to make her friends happy. Eren and Armin were alright - they were more than alright and Mikasa treasured them more than anyone - but they were still problematic. These new friends wouldn't fall in love with Annie Leonhardt and then forget all about their quietly loyal friend who was simply always there; these new friends wouldn't have sex with Mikasa and then never look her in the eye again while they continued to admire Annie from afar. 

The important thing here was that Mikasa knew that she couldn't be usurped by Annie. Sasha, Christa and Ymir just wanted to have a great team to play hockey with. Ymir had also said it would be awesome to have a hockey gang of badass chicks who are always covered in cuts and bruises they display like medals. No matter what disagreements Mikasa had had with Annie in the past, she couldn't deny that Annie was maybe a little cool and definitely a brilliant hockey player. They needed Annie and Mikasa wouldn't feel right if she wasn't the one who invited her to play. 

"Listen, Annie, you're getting lazy."

"Excuse me?"

"You too good for this team. There might be people here who are good players, but that's all they'll ever be. I've seen you when you were at your best and you were extraordinary. The team is pulling you down and you're sinking into mediocrity. Can you honestly tell me that any of the people here know you? Can you tell me that as a team they make you a better player? We want you to join our team. I'm great too, you know. If you join our team, you'll be amazing again. If you don't, you'll have to live with the fact that I'll always be better than you."

Annie wasn't smirking anymore. It wasn't easy to determine whether that was a good sign though. 

"When have you ever been better than me at anything?" Annie asked in her usual bored voice. Mikasa was taking that as a good sign. 

"Have you forgotten every moment of your life since you met me?"

"You talk a lot of shit, Ackerman. A lot of shit." Annie tapped her stick on the ground and dragged a semi-circle through the sand that had settled on the surface of the Astroturf. She peered up at Mikasa and tucked a stray lock of blonde behind her ear before she hazarded, "I'm surprised you haven't asked about the breakup though."

"Why would I ask about that? I think I know all I need to, what with occasionally hearing Eren crying in his room when he thinks nobody will notice."

"That's funny."

"No it isn't. That's not funny at all, and if you think it is then you're just a heartless bitch."

"I thought you'd come to sweet talk me onto your shoddy excuse for a team. Anyway, I just meant it's funny because he was the one who dumped me. That's all. His tears are nothing to do with me."

"Whatever. It's not like I care anyway. Will you join the team?"

"You thought the conversation was still going there? I'm glad to see you still have that sterling sense of humour of yours," Annie chuckled before turning on her heel and ambling off.

"Hey!" Mikasa yelled after Annie's victorious retreat. "Are you going to join the team?"

"You shouldn't poach players," Annie yelled back.

Mikasa wanted to retort but she had nothing on her side. All she would be doing is begging loud enough for everyone to hear. It was too late anyway. Annie had reached the girl who was pretending she hadn't been listening to the exchange. It was the girl from earlier. Her most remarkable features were the mousy brown curls that framed her face, and the ski-jump nose that gave her the appearance of an inquisitive rodent. As soon as Annie was near, the girl had pounced on her and was chattering away to a dead bored looking Annie. Mikasa had nothing. 

She wouldn't be able to say anything to convince Annie to join the team. 

Maybe Annie would join if any of the other girls asked her, but she wouldn't be able to even tentatively make amends with Annie after a dumb difference of opinions - though more honestly the problem was the fact they both shared the same opinion. It somehow felt like a loss to Mikasa and she took a moment to wonder how her ego had inflated enough to think she had any sway over people like Annie Leonhardt. They'd been fast friends before, but that was in the past and Mikasa mentally chastised herself because it was obvious that didn't mean anything now. 

Mikasa wanted to give up, but there wasn't anybody else. As much as Mikasa hated to admit it, nobody else was as good as Annie. Maybe if Mikasa hadn't been such a cow, Annie might actually have wanted to hear her out. She needed to rethink her approach if she was ever going to convince Annie to join. Just as long as Eren didn't get brought up in the conversation somehow, she assumed it would be fine. 

It would totally be fine.

But for now, Mikasa decided she was better off going home. Pestering Annie anymore wouldn't do any good and Mikasa needed to get out of the cold. The wind was picking up and the clouds that were rolling in looked heavy, purplish-grey puffs of ash, so Mikasa jogged back up the school to pick up her bag. It pained her to have to text Ymir to tell her how the invitation went but she needed a ride home. Ymir replied with a sequence of characters that Mikasa couldn't understand. She assumed it meant that Ymir was on her way, so Mikasa went to wait outside the front of the school.

 

Ymir pulled up in her bright green car with the scuffs and scratches of previous collisions just moments after fat drops of icy rain splattered down from the sky. Mikasa was already starting to shiver, and her shirt was already turning transparent as the rain soaked the thin white material. When she opened the passenger door, it was to reveal Ymir sitting in the driver's seat in her stupid fur coat. 

"'Sup, bitch?" Ymir greeted shrilly. Mikasa rolled her eyes as she shoved her bag into the foot well and slumped into the seat. 

"I'm still wondering how much you're getting paid to wear that hideous thing."

Ymir peeked down at her coat and stroked from one shoulder, down her chest. "Nobody needs to pay me to wear this baby. Anyway, it's a precious family heirloom."

"Obviously." 

As Mikasa put her seatbelt on, she heard some rattling and rustling from Ymir's direction. When she turned back to say she was ready, a colourful box was shoved in her face. 

"Want a fag?" Ymir asked. 

Mikasa rolled her eyes and slid a white cylinder from the packet. "Is the Spiderman tattoo up for grabs too?" 

"Nah, I've promised that to the love of my life."

"You don't have to refer to yourself in such a roundabout way, you know."

"Funny," Ymir replied sarcastically. She started the ignition of the car and Mikasa took the opportunity to start messing with the car radio. However, she almost choked on the candy stick between her lips. Never in her life would she have guessed Ymir would be driving around with a Girls Aloud CD blasting through her car speakers. Ymir seemed just as surprised and growled at the CD player before managing to swat Mikasa's hands away and turn it off. "It's not mine."

"Of course not," Mikasa said tightly, proud of the fact she was managing to keep her laugh in with herculean effort. 

"It's Christa. She- well she's the one who likes Girls Aloud."

"Of course."

"Shut up." 

Mikasa bit her candy stick and twirled it between her lips as she turned her gaze out through the window. She barely lasted a few minutes of the silent drive before she was humming Can't Speak French. Almost as soon as she started, Ymir released the gear stick to thump Mikasa in the leg. But she wasn't really annoyed, Mikasa could tell because she'd been on the receiving end of one of Ymir's real punches and her arm had been numb with sporadic tingles half an hour after the hit. Luckily, Mikasa could walk when she made to get out of the car eight minutes later.

 

*

 

Maybe the ever-darkening skies were an omen for what was to come, but the afternoon Trost High hockey team played their sixth match of the season, Miaksa did not get the show she had been expecting. 

Even though the rain was holding off, Christa and Ymir had already left early. Sasha was still stood next to Mikasa with her coat huddled close around her, watching on worriedly. Mikasa had assumed that after a blinder of a game she would be able to try again to convince Annie to join the team. It seemed she would be better off staying away from the other girl because she didn't doubt that the viciously frequent fouls wouldn't just be confined to the match she was playing. So far Annie had already whacked several other players in the shins and even some of her own teammates were on the receiving ends of jabs and swipes from her stick.

"Do you think she would hurt us if we spoke to her?" Sasha asked quietly. Mikasa didn't answer immediately because a sympathetic groan swelled from the audience as Annie rammed right into the star midfielder of the other team. Barely any goals had been scored the whole match and Annie's aggressive tackles might have had something to do with that. 

As Annie and the referee had a discussion that involved a lot of gesticulation, an excited murmur ran through the crowd and evolved into a cheer by the time she was sent off the pitch. Mikasa glanced at Sasha briefly before replying, "Yeah. She would definitely hurt us."

Two hours later, Sasha was recounting each and every one of Annie's tackles and fouls to Christa and Ymir in the Chicken Cottage by the stables. Christa nibbled on the pile of fries in the middle of the table as she listened intently to Sasha, despite the fact she was present for most of the brutal tackles. Ymir had her arm stretched languidly over the back of Christa's seat and mostly seemed bored by Sasha, but when Mikasa sent her a questioning look the reply was a shushing gesture and a wink. Ymir returned to fiddling with her phone and occasionally playing with Christa's hair, and Mikasa felt a little out of sorts. 

Outside, she could see how dark it had gotten. It was a bit too dark for the time of year though the clouds were still a long way from breaking even though the dark purple bruises across the sky were angrily rolling into a septic black. Nobody would have missed her if she left, she decided, though before she even had the chance to gather up her things, the door of the Chicken shop opened, bringing with it a flurry of wind-whipped leaves that crinkled underfoot with each step the new arrival took. Very slowly, Annie trudged over to the table where the four girls were seated and dropped her sopping wet kit bag onto the table across the aisle. 

She fixed each girl with a hard look through the dripping tendrils of blonde that had wriggled free from her hood before saying, "So I heard you were looking for a fifth member."

Mikasa's stomach flipped and she almost didn't want to exhale, lest even the most gentle of breaths disperse this illusion. But Sasha was the first to react, asking, "May I ask why you are wet?"


	3. Chapter 3

Since the debacle with the school team, Annie hadn't been able to stop thinking about her tenuous union with Mikasa and her stupid fake hockey team. Of course Ymir had grinned wolfishly at her arrival, as though she had not been texting Annie the whole time and informing her where to come, but Christa and Sasha reacted all the more flatly as though neither of them were sure how they were supposed to take this. And Mikasa. Mikasa acknowledged Annie no more than widening her eyes before blankly staring through Annie for the remainder of the day. 

Joining this team - accepting Mikasa's offer - was not at all a choice, though the others did not seem to mind. Annie would be furious of she were second best. She wouldn't be able to stand the thought of someone taking advantage of her when someone's first choice became suddenly unavailable, and she had honestly thought Mikasa was cut from the same cloth. Apparently Annie had been wrong. She had turned up at the chicken shop, soaked to the bone because of teammates who no longer wanted her, and she hadn't been turned away. They simply invited her to sit down and help herself to a piece of chicken and several fistfuls of fries. 

Having someone to welcome her at a low moment almost made up for the fact she and her belongings had been locked in the shower room, held under the icy spray until her clothes were heavy flaps of excessively suffocating skin, and sent out into the evening chill with orders not to come back. She had trudged all the way to where Ymir had told her to come, praying that it wouldn't rain and then realising it wouldn't matter anyway because she was already a pathetic drowned rat. Somehow she felt a little guilty about it though she didn't understand why.

It wasn't her fault. So maybe she played a bit more aggressively than was called for, that didn't mean she was begging to be kicked off the team. Just because she was feeling sorry for herself it didn't mean she had asked Ymir to welcome her into the fold. Things had just happened to her. It was nothing like the time she had antagonised Mikasa to tear at the wound in their friendship until the jagged edges would no longer mesh and heal. It was more like the time Eren suddenly told her they should break up and, having become accustomed to the company of others, she realised she didn't want to be alone any more. 

Sitting next to Ymir on Christa's living room sofa and watching crappy made for TV movies helped Annie to not feel so alone. It was odd though, because she barely knew Ymir. Ymir was some big scary girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for fur coats who could relate almost any subject into a wondrous facet of Christa's personality. She wasn't much more than an acquaintance from school. It might just have been that she was the next best thing to Mikasa - Christa was overly kind, and Sasha was politely formal in her eagerness to please, but Ymir just didn't seem to be bothered by things too deeply. She didn't ask too many questions and she didn't divulge too much about herself. 

She was okay, really. 

"Do you ever wonder just how seriously we're supposed to take these movies?" Ymir asked through a yawn as her eyes fell shut and she stroked at the chest of her fur coat. 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everything is the end of the world, but it is just so funny. it seems like overacting when we're watching this but I think they're trying to show how horrible it would feel if that stuff happened to us. Is that how people react to real life dramas? When your whole life is falling apart, do you ever think spectators would just laugh at how you cope?"

"I think you're getting a bit too deep for a Sunday afternoon."

"Probably," Ymir agreed. Then, "So, hey, I was wondering-"

"If this is about becoming great friends and getting my period to synchronise with all of yours, then Sasha has already asked me about that."

"What the fuck, man? No, that's not what I was going to ask. But it is good that you're aware of what we are expecting from you."

Annie rolled her eyes, wondering just how much truth that statement held. Even if it did somehow happen, no matter how close she got to the other girls she would not want to be close enough to let them know whether or not her menstrual cycle had synchronised with theirs. Annie doubted she would be able to fully get on board with their sense of humour, and it had surprised her that even someone like Mikasa made jokes like this. 

Back when she and Mikasa had been close before the Eren thing the pair of them did have laughs, albeit at the expense of others as they made sarcastic commentary, but Annie never would have seen crass jokes about bodily functions being Mikasa's thing. It seemed a strange notion that Mikasa would change so much in the space of a few months. 

Annie was drawn out of thoughts on the differences in Mikasa's personality by Ymir's second attempt at asking a question. "But, yeah, I wanted to know something."

"What is it?"

"You're friends with those two really tall guys in my year, right?"

"We're not friends," Annie corrected a little tersely, "But I think I know who you're talking about. What about them?"

"Say that - this is all hypothetical, you must understand - but suppose one of them had threatened the life of a beautiful young girl in the prime of her life because of a misunderstanding. Well, let's say that it isn't entirely a misunderstanding because in a past life she may have done something to wrong one, or both, of these boys but it is in the past now. Got it? Right, so what is the likelihood that they would follow through on a threat to cause physical damage to the wonderful young damsel at hand?"

"What did you do?"

"It's not me. This is a hypothetical situation, remember."

Annie rolled her eyes and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. She fixed her eyes firmly on the television as she said, "I don't really know them that well. I only live near them, that's all."

"Right, yeah. It's a good job that nobody is in the hypothetical situation I just described then, isn't it."

Annie didn't quite know how to reply to that, as she was one hundred percent certain that Ymir was in some sort of trouble. She mumbled her agreement though and wondered whether it was her eyes or the dubbing team who worked on this movie had made a horrible mistake while mixing the sound. She squinted at the screen for a while and was relieved that, in a strangely carefree tone considering the past conversation, Ymir asked if the onscreen dialogue was out of sync. 

 

Annie shoved her hands as deep into the pockets of her leather jacket as they would go as she walked home. This was the first time she had worn it in a while, taking a chance at filtering it back into her wardrobe along with her extensive collection of hoodies now that she had sort of made up with Mikasa. They had ironically bought matching jackets and Annie's still wore the cartoonish ladybird badge Mikasa had pinned to the lapel on a day Annie could no longer remember. 

She thought it was acceptable to start wearing it again now that she and Mikasa were close to being friends, though she could not quite work out her previous reasoning behind deciding to retire it to the back of her wardrobe. Considering her nonsensical thoughts on the matter, she had decided it would be weird if the first time she wore it again was a day that she saw Mikasa. She would probably get embarrassed and self-conscious of the jacket. She would look stupid if Mikasa hadn't ascribed such emotional meaning to her jacket. Annie was planning on pretending she had worn it all the while but she probably wouldn't get away with that unspoken lie. After all, her eyes had wondered every now and then and registered the continuous absence of Mikasa's own battered leather jacket. 

The season was getting chillier and Annie wished her attempts at a constantly indifferent outlook included gloves or a scarf. Like the red one Mikasa wore. Annie hadn't missed that Mikasa had stopped wearing her scarf. 

Annie hated that she had noticed such a thing, but she sort of wanted to ask what separated Mikasa from the scarf that was wrapped around her neck even in the height of summer. If she could find a way to ask without letting on that she was apparently obsessed with Mikasa's clothing choices she probably would. 

Annie was still deep in her thoughts about Mikasa's fashion when she heard her name being called from across the street. She turned to see Bertholdt from the next street over awkwardly jogging across the road to catch up to her. He gave her a feeble smile and wiped at the speckling of sweat that was pin-pricking through the skin of his upper lip. 

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," Annie said. Bertholdt was looking around nervously and Annie hoped he'd find the conversation topic he was so obviously searching for when she half-heartedly said, "How are you?"

"Yeah, um, I'm good too. Some guys from school asked me to go out to meet them today and it turned out they just wanted to try and get me to join the basketball team."

"Sounds terrible."

"Yeah. I mean, Reiner doesn't really like basketball."

"Okay." 

Bertholdt rocked back on his heels and rubbed the cuff of his jacket up the side of his face. "Yeah." 

Annie didn't much like talking to Bertholdt. He would always call over to her with no particular topic in mind and he wasn't very good at thinking on his feet. It usually made Annie feel bad for never putting in the effort to carry on the conversations, but at least she was aware of her lack of skill in the area of conjuring conversational topics.

She squinted up at him against the overcast sky. Annie couldn't help but think of Ymir's reference to 'those tall guys' and Bertholdt's strange and unnecessary mention of Reiner. It reminded Annie of her earlier conversation with Ymir. 

"Do you know Ymir?"

"Ymir?"

Annie took great pains to suppress an eye roll at Bertholdt's answer. She zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands as deep as they could go into her pockets. "Yeah, she's in year twelve like you. Have you heard anything about her getting into trouble?"

"I don't know? What sort of trouble?"

"The type of trouble where a very angry idiot would make threats against her and his even stupider sidekick would just go along with it. You know?"

"I'm not stupid," Bertholdt said. The words weren't quite as sharp as they could have been but his expression was clear irritation.

"But you admit you're the sidekick?"

"No, I just need to... look after him. Listen, she really messed up this friend we had and... it's really got nothing to do with you. I'm sure Reiner didn't really mean it so you can tell your friend she doesn't have to watch her back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Annie nodded, only more curious about whatever it was she was missing out on. But she'd found some validation for the strange feeling that she had always had about Reiner. She'd known there was something about him she didn't quite like and apparently it was that he might have been the type of guy to throw his weight around. Maybe that wasn't quite the thing that had been bothering Annie about him but it was something. 

Bertholdt was standing up straighter and he didn't look quite so awkward about cluelessly standing in the street. Annie arched an eyebrow at this new assertiveness and said, "You can tell your friend that he should be watching his back." 

Annie turned and sauntered off down the street and hoped she wouldn't bump into the other half of the duo before she got to the unsociable safety of her home.

 

When Annie decided to glance at her phone that evening, after pottering around making dinner for whenever her dad got home and painting her toe nails, it was to more text messages than she had seen since she and Eren had broken up. She wasn't sure if she was subconsciously getting her hopes up but she felt oddly disappointed by the names on her screen. 

The first text she saw was from Christa, apologising for not being at home to be a host and asking whether she got home alright. The second was from Hitch. After a fortnight of radio silence Hitch had sent a text asking if Annie wanted to go to see a hockey match with her. Annie was surprised by the fact she even read the message considering the fact that she had vowed to ignore the girl in return for being ignored when the school hockey captain delivered Annie's punishment. The last texts were from Ymir, asking Annie to pretend she'd given her a lift home.

She went along with Ymir's wishes and sent a text to Christa telling her that Ymir had given her a lift home. She tried to drop her phone under her pillow and leave it but even when she was sat in the living room, mechanically repainting her toenails while her dad snoozed through the news, Annie's mind kept drifting back to the message from Hitch.   
She was not so magnanimous as to reply to Hitch and agree to go, but she honestly did enjoy the sport. She loved watching other teams play and she loved playing herself. She had been adopted into a ridiculously amateur team but it was still a chance to play. So it might have been a nice idea to share something else she loved with them, and perhaps they might even learn something from watching better players in a match situation. 

Annie quickly typed up a text message and deleted it several times before she felt stupid for wasting all of this time. She had the idea so she might as well go through with it and see what happened. She sent the text to Christa, her overly-gentle nature making her the only one Annie felt the least uncomfortable about contacting, and somehow managed not to look at her phone until the next morning.

 

Annie had decided to wear her leather jacket the morning of the hockey match. It had taken almost a week but she had convinced herself that it would just look casual and nobody would read anything into it. It was too late to do anything when she was waiting at the train station, leaning against one of the benches outside but not bothering to sit because rain had started in spits and spurts just as she left the house. She could not change because if she went home she would make everybody else wait and it wouldn't be fair to make everybody late for a trip that was her idea. So she simply had to stand outside the train station and live with her decision.

Her decision felt like a stupid one though when the second of the group turned up, twirling her umbrella. There were still ten minutes left before the planned meet-up time when Mikasa strutted towards the train station. And then her eyes must have caught sight of Annie and her gait stumbled a little. She continued towards Annie though as though the pause had never happened. She was wearing her leather jacket too and Annie didn't know whether she felt stupid for wearing the same thing or happy that Mikasa was still wearing hers. She settled for stupid though, because it was unlikely that Mikasa was thinking along the same lines. 

"Morning," Annie nodded in the face of Mikasa's feeble attempt at a smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. You?"

Mikasa didn't answer for a while. She swayed and her dress seemed to float upwards with the movement. She took a tiny step closer to Annie and continued to twirl her umbrella between her fingers even though it now sheltered the both of them. She eventually said, "I'm a bit worried about what today will bring."

"Nothing to worry about. We'll get to see a really good team play, that's all."

"Right. Cool."

Neither of them said anything else for a while. They stood side by side under Mikasa's umbrella and waited for the others. Annie had never really minded silences before but this one did worry her a bit. There was some sort of expectation in the air and Annie wondered whether it was an expectation of her to strike up some intelligent conversation. She wouldn't be able to simply because she had nothing to say, but knowing as much never bothered her before now. 

This situation was more than just a little bit unusual and Annie realised she was afraid of Mikasa, or at least afraid of Mikasa not seeing her in a good light. 

Annie looked askance at Mikasa to see the girl determinedly looking in the other direction. There was something about the set of Mikasa's jaw that gave away the fact there was something that she didn't want to see - either Annie or something behind her. Annie was hopeful that it wasn't her Mikasa didn't want to see so she turned around. 

"Hey, Armin," Annie called out. She didn't know why she did that, especially considering what made her turn around in the first place, but she did nearly get stabbed in the eye with one of the spokes of the umbrella so that served her right. 

Armin's head whipped around and he tried to school his face into an expression that looked a bit less stricken than it was. It didn't work though because he mostly looked as though he was in pain as he approached the girls. 

"Hello."

"Are you going somewhere nice?" 

"Hmm, yes," Armin nodded. He shifted from foot to foot and he kept looking around, clearly distracted by something. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course. It's just crazy seeing you and Mikasa here. It's been a while."

"Has it?"

"Yes. Yep. It has." 

"Okay," Annie replied, attempting to keep the suspicion out of her voice. She glanced at Mikasa and she wasn't even looking in Armin's direction, and Armin's eye line seemed to be avoiding the girl too. She was about to let Armin go when her eyes caught at something that she again announced something she probably shouldn't have. "That's Mikasa's scarf."

Armin looked down and his hands flew to the red scarf wrapped around his neck. "Oh, ah. Yeah, I guess it is."

He hastily unwound the scarf and muttered half-formed thoughts as he shoved the bundle of wool at Annie. "Sorry, I don't know why I was - ah, I'll see you guys at school."

He was gone before Annie could say anything and she was left holding the scarf. Armin had been wearing this scarf even though it was Mikasa's scarf that she used to wear every day. This was the scarf that she recognised as Mikasa's even though it had been Eren's before that. It was odd to hold such a thing. This was a possession of Mikasa - and people that Mikasa probably liked more than Annie, much as the hockey team had been - and somehow holding it annoyed Annie. 

"Here, this is yours, right?" Annie mumbled as she offered the scarf. Mikasa silently took it and shoved it to the bottom of her handbag. Neither of them said anything until the other three girls turned up, only a few minutes after the appointed time. 

Their train to Aberystwyth was at twenty-five minutes past nine so the five of them still had twenty minutes before their strain arrived when Annie assumed they might pick up a couple of magazines and some snacks for the almost three hour train journey. She was markedly wrong by the fact they spent a large portion of both the time waiting for the train and their journey interrogating Sasha about the person who gave her the conspicuously small grey hoodie she was wearing. 

For a while Annie didn't bother listening, and she felt stupid for that. She knew she was being an idiot, sulking while she was curled up in her seat, but the others hardly made her want to resist the sour mood that was settling over her. Mikasa had dragged Sasha into the seat next to the one she claimed within five seconds of boarding the train. She had managed to nab table seats - which was great aside from the fact there were only four seats around the table. 

A part of Annie wondered whether she was close enough with these girls that they would be willing to squish up so she could sit around the table with them. Sitting across the aisle from them, Annie wondered whether it was her or the other girls who had a problem. 

She could only imagine there was something wrong with them if they were doing this, intentionally or not. She was the one who suggested this trip to watch a real team play and this was how she was repaid. Even though Annie was well aware that she was being stupid, and maybe even petty, she didn't feel ashamed of her reaction and instead focused on her darker and more immature thoughts. She didn't care about why anyone would be giving Sasha paperclip necklaces threaded through Polos anyway.

If anybody noticed Annie's sour mood by the time they got to Aberystwyth, nobody said anything. Not even Christa. Annie didn't care anybody. She might to talk to them when they got back home - well she didn't have anybody else and even Annie couldn't play hockey alone - but they didn't have to be best friends. Annie was good at keeping an emotional distance. or so she hoped. As often as she thought about this apparent skill she wondered why she was so wracked with rage and jealousy whenever she felt the slightest bit jilted. 

She tried to appear more aloof as she lead the way from the station but Sasha and Christa dawdling and pointing out all the different houses started to get on her nerves. Annie absolutely refused to believe that they hadn't seen houses on hills before. While they were oohing and ahhing over how cute the buildings looked amongst the dense greenery, they even managed to pull Ymir and Mikasa into their slow pace. 

The gap between Annie and the others was widening. Several times Annie told the rest of them to hurry but all she really got in return was a brief respite from the painfully slow pace before they were back to stopping every few paces and commenting on how Welsh everything was. 

Annie was so close to snapping at them, letting loose the frustration that had been building up since that morning - Why was she feeling so left out? Why did it bother her why she was being left out? Why would Mikasa come begging Annie to join their so-called team and then ignore her when she did join? Why did any of them even come at all if they were just going to be tirelessly annoying? - she just wanted to yell at them to leave her alone properly if they were barely going to take notice of her presence. Then Sasha finally realised she could see the sea and asked if they could all go down to the beach afterwards. Annie said nothing and loped off, deciding that she really didn't care either way if anybody else actually saw the hockey match. 

When she did arrive at the pitch she was irritated that she was so late. She stood against the railing along the side of the pitch and tried to work out how things were going. Luckily the crowd was small and spread out around the perimeter so once she found a spot she had good visibility no matter where the ball was. The team she had actually come to see looked happy. Only two of them were clearly grinning at each other, but she knew what their faces looked when they were losing and the heavy brows and downturned mouths were absent, so Annie guessed the score-line was in their favour. 

Annie loved watching this team. Even though they were amateurs who could not dedicate very much time to playing hockey they pulled off risky plays like it was second nature.

A defender scooped the ball away from the opposing team's forwards when they got a bit too confident in the apparent chance to score, and passed it to the goalie. Without missing a beat, the goalie swung her stick and propelled the ball all the way up to the midfield where it was swept right up to the striker who dribbled a metre forwards in order to score a goal. There had barely been any contact in that play, rather the players hardly had the ball for long enough for Annie to properly process what was going on, but that was the sort of thing that made Annie's heart hammer in her chest. It could have all gone totally wrong with an own goal but, by the frustrated faces of the other team, they had successfully made a play faster than anybody else on the field could think. 

Everything about this team was impressive, especially considering the league they were playing in. Annie's eyes were glued to a player who was seemingly a defender as he dribbled his way up the pitch and thwacked the ball backwards at the last moment. The player hadn't even spared a glance for the game behind him yet it was perfectly and smoothly collected by the other who had been posing as a defender when Annie arrived.

Even though the spectators were sparse in number, their cheers were spirited when the second defender-turned-striker transformed the energy from accepting the ball into a springy rebound that the opposing goal keeper barely missed. That was when Annie realised she had been joined by Mikasa, Christa, Sasha and Ymir.

"Wow, that was amazing!" Sasha crowed as she leaned right over the barrier.

It was amazing but Annie wasn't going to comment on it. Sasha didn't seem to mind that though because Christa was chattering with her about how cool that last shot was. Their timing was awful because the first half had just ended and Annie would probably have to talk to the new arrivals. 

She felt a bit embarrassed about storming off, but nobody mentioned it at all. Her ears felt hot with her chagrin but she remedied that by not making eye contact with any of the girls. None of them addressed her directly anyway so she wasn't going to cause any offence. 

As she was so focused on pretending not to ignore the girls she had come here with, Annie almost completely missed the clunking of heavy padding as a demure, armour-clad figure approached her in a laboured scurry.

"You came to watch us again!"

Annie blinked a few times as though this apparition would become no more after a few more blinks, but she was still there. Annie stopped leaning on the railing and nodded her greeting. 

"I haven't seen you for ages? How come Eren's not with you?" 

Annie wasn't even looking but she could pin-point the exact moment that this woman realised that what she was saying might have been a blunder. Even behind the protective mask, her bright eyes dimmed and her voice dulled. The question attracted attention that Annie could really have done without, she decided as she noticed Mikasa inch into orbit around her. 

"We don't hang out anymore," Annie mumbled in as disaffected a voice as she could manage. "We haven't for a while now."

"Oh, okay." The woman nodded averted her gaze, apparently glad that even such a vague answer saved her from the situation she had walked right into. "The same wouldn't happen to be true of Hitch, would it?"

"Well, as it happens..."

"Ah." She pulled a face before looking at each of the girls on the other side of the barrier in turn. "My name is Petra. To save any further embarrassment I will assume you are all friends of Annie and you should now introduce yourselves." 

Christa was the one who got introductions underway, her voice catching on her name as she looked to Petra with starry eyes. Petra nodded as Christa introduced each of the girls in turn and she didn't seem to at all mind when Christa immediately jumped into an on-the-spot interview about what it was like being the goalie.

It was not only Christa offering the woman her rapt attention as Sasha and Mikasa hung on to each syllable and pause as though they wanted to memorise the cadence of Petra's speech. Annie had never found Petra interesting enough to neglect the world around her. She was a nice enough person but conversations with her usually led to one-sided lively discussions with another woman and conversations with her always gave Annie a headache. In fact, just hearing the sound of her screeching voice from across the field gave Annie a headache. 

Then she realised. Hange was approaching. 

Annie tried to back away from the railing but that proved more difficult than she first thought when she realised a small crowd had gathered at the presence of one of the players even though it was half-time. Just when she thought she had spotted an escape route, Annie felt herself being tugged backwards by her hood. In a panic she twisted round to see Ymir flashing her trademark wolfish grin down at her.

"Where are you sneaking off to?"

"I'm not sneaking _to_ anywhere," Annie muttered through gritted teeth. 

"Well what are you sneaking _away_ from?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah," Annie confirmed. "Nothing."

Of course the casual facade she put on was shattered by Hange whooping and hollering as she tackled Petra to the ground. Annie suppressed a flinch and turned away with a sigh. 

"She seems..."

"Yeah," Annie agreed, smiling softly ant the uncomprehending expression on Ymir's face. "That's only the half of it though."

Annie watched as Moblit, a man who inexplicably followed Hange around everywhere, even on the pitch, helped Petra and Hange up from the ground. He chastised the taller bespectacled one as she squawked about how they needed to discuss second-half tactics but his defeated expression showed how hopeless he knew his words were.

At that point Annie realised how hopeless any of her own words would be and she prepared herself for some post-match activities that she had never planned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hockey seems to be pretty incidental at this point. I don't suppose I could validly think of this as being a 'hockey AU' really. I do at least have girls hitting things with stick in mind though.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Historia has a bit of a blast from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some gender insensitivity

Historia's back arched as she felt herself get closer to the peak of pleasure and her fingers rubbed harder at her clit. To stifle the sounds of her erratic breathing she had lifted her T-shirt and stuffed a wad of it into her mouth - a gag that had more than one purpose as it got the hem of her T-shirt out of the way of her hands' reach - but the bathroom amplified her ragged breaths in her own ears. She needed to be quick because there was no way she could let anybody else hear her - and they must be able to if her cracked whimpers and desperate breaths sounded this loud, really. 

The fingers of her left hand undulated gently as they pushed in and withdrew from her while her right hand focused desperate energy onto her clit. She really, really needed to be quick. Her mind leapt to the embarrassment she would feel if her mother caught her, or worse yet Ymir.

Historia's voice managed to break through the makeshift gag and the startled sound startled her into chagrin as she pressed harder and held her breath to keep her voice in.   
Ymir wasn't what Historia wanted to think about at all. Except for how she honestly did want to think about all the things she and Ymir could do together if they ever explored the possibility of being together. There was something about Ymir that made her look as though she would be good at that kind of thing. And suddenly it was Ymir smirking devilishly as she pressed her fingers into Historia, a sight that made her clench around the fingers and whimper. It was Ymir licking her lips before she moved down Historia's body and teasingly flicked her tongue out against Historia's clit.

And then it was Ymir banging against the bathroom door and demanding to know what was taking so long. Except that was real and Historia had to attempt to dampen her surprise as she swiftly pulled her hands away from her body to break the current of shame that stung. She had been caught but she might just have been able to throw Ymir off the scent of what was actually going on inside the bathroom. 

"I'm... doing a really big poo!" Historia shouted back through the door.

Ymir snickered against the door and caught her breath before saying, "Seriously though. We're going to be late for school. Maybe you can save the rest of that for when we get to school."

"But that would be embarrassing because it wouldn't smell very nice," Historia replied shakily as she tore off some toilet paper to wipe her fingers dry with. She had a longing ache between her legs but she supposed she would get over that eventually. It was stupid of her to be doing this before school anyway, but she had been feeling a little bit desperate. 

"Remember that time you did that really stinky shit in the McDonald's toilet and you pretended you couldn't smell anything until some woman went into the stall. Oh, god, and then you were harping on about how smelly it was as if it was that woman's fault."

"Shut up! That was you!"

Historia flushed the toilet but the whooshing of the water was nowhere near enough to muffle the sound of Ymir cackling. She quickly washed her hands but decided to wash them again after wondering whether the scent of her last act was still clinging to her fingers. Ymir was still laughing and Historia splashed some water on her face to cool the embarrassed flush. When she opened the bathroom door Ymir almost fell at Historia's feet. 

"Why aren't you laughing? That was really funny."

"I said that was you."

Ymir scoffed. "The loud complaining about the smell was me but the cow pats were all yours."

"Are you calling me a cow?" Historia asked as she jogged down the stairs. At least Ymir was following her. Ymir could call Historia a cow all she wanted as long as it meant that she was still in the dark about whether she was pooing or masturbating. 

It was difficult though, quickly slurping down a bowl of cereal while her mother asked Ymir about their plans for the afternoon, to pretend that guilt wasn't seeping out of every pore of her skin. Even the times when she didn't have to rush off to school, Historia felt guilty for masturbating because she always thought of Ymir. Inviting Ymir to come and live with her was supposed to be a nice gesture, but then it was Christa who was stirring up these feelings of guilt within Historia and she had no idea how to deal with it. 

She was silent in the car on the way to school but there was a cacophony of excuses and chastisements inside her head.

 

The second Historia walked into the Geography classroom that day she instantly wondered where Armin was. At the front of the room there was a tall blonde man standing next to the teacher's computer, pointing at the screen while Mr Zacharius was sat in the chair setting everything up. The man was called Mr Smith and he seemed to have made quite the impression on Armin since the first lesson he came in for. She couldn't deny that he was good looking and well-dressed, obviously the result of some wealth, and his voice was smooth and authoritive as it spoke calm and pragmatic words. All that aside she still didn't quite know why Armin was so enraptured by the man. 

Somehow he made Geography even more boring than usual as he went on and on about gross domestic product and globalisation and the only thing that saved Historia from dropping off through these lessons was Armin, in the seat next to her, thrusting his hand in the air and practically bouncing up and down in his seat to get Mr Smith's attention. She definitely felt as though she had drawn the short straw in the class being seated next to Armin at their table which was the island miles away from all of the landlocked members of their class. 

She had already managed to unpack her supplies for the lesson and get settled down before Armin arrived and slid a pack of gum across the table to her. In her practised and careful way, Historia picked up the chewing gum without even looking and squeezed a smooth caplet into the palm of her hand. Already something was not quite as it should have been but she couldn't put her finger on it as she watched Mr Smith at the front of the room expertly opening his briefcase with the one hand he had, hoping he wouldn't look in her direction as she popped the chewing gum into her mouth.

"What is this?" 

"Uh, strawberry."

"Strawberry is for Business Studies," Historia said. 

"I know," Armin muttered sheepishly, his eyes flitting to the front of the room. When his gaze landed on Historia his mouth was pulled into a too-wide grin. "It's just that at the moment, this sort of Geography is a lot like Business Studies so I figured that it might not matter if we use the same flavour."

"What if this reflects badly in our exams?"

Armin shrugged. "I did ask Bertholdt if he had any peach Trident but he had run out too. Marco's still off sick, so I couldn't ask him, so I had to go to Connie. Bertholdt told me not to because apparently Connie and Reiner were up to something but I was getting kind of desperate because I knew you would be annoyed. I would be too really, so I had no choice but to buy off Connie. And he had run out of peach but he did sell me some treasury tags if you wanted any."

Historia rolled her eyes. She wanted neither the long explanation nor the treasury tags. 

Last year Historia had taken to staying late after school with Armin, Marco and Bertholdt to do revision and sometimes even do some casual tutoring in the library. The tutoring petered to a stop but they continued to hide out in the school library and go over the notes from lessons. Historia and Armin had the advantage because they were the youngest and the other two had already gone over the material they were studying but they still wanted that extra edge in their exams. 

Both Historia and Armin had researched tips for revision and decided to test out one advising the use of chewing gum to help with factual recall. Armin and Marco both acted as though it was some great discovery, like they had known all along that scent was the strongest trigger for memory recall, and they alone deduced that taste and smell had similar receptors, and finished each other's sentences in their little eureka moment. Historia had thought they were over the top in wordlessly proclaiming their own genius, but even Bertholdt was carried along in their wave of excitement.

So she said nothing about it. She decided to be nice, she adopted the delicate simper of the persona everyone knew and loved and she agreed to try it out. It was a long four months between the initial revision session using chewing gum, the exams they took with the bursts of flavour tucked away in the corners of their mouths, and the results that were released three months after the testing period. They did well in their exams, though Historia was loathe to point out that it proved nothing. In fact the improvement in their test scores might just have been because they were all revising more and they better understood what they were being taught, but Armin decided that it was the chewing gum and Marco and Bertholdt whole-heartedly agreed with him on that. 

Somehow it became a habit that Historia couldn't break. She felt so uncomfortable even reading without rolling gum around between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Each flavour was a talisman that blessed her with brains and an aptitude for solving riddles and coming up with any answer she needed. And now Armin was cursing her with strawberry when she needed peach. 

"Christa, I'm sorry." 

Historia blinked and then she remembered herself. She smiled widely and told him it was fine. Armin looked comforted by just that, and all too soon he was wondering aloud about what Mr Smith would be teaching them. 

She hadn't even been particularly annoyed by the change of flavour, it was just that Armin seemed to think she wouldn't notice if he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't a big deal, but then Armin had to go and act like he was so terribly sorry for bringing the wrong chewing gum to the lesson. Stuff like that annoyed her, especially when It took all of Historia's patience to swallow back the bile that was rising in her throat. Armin was an attention-seeking arse-licker, this characteristic shining like a beacon where Mr Smith was concerned. He was pathetic and obvious and it was easier for her to try to laugh about it to herself than it was for her to wonder if she was the same around Ymir. 

Though forcing herself to be entertained was hard work. Historia needed to relieve some of the tension that was building up. She wanted to hit something and she couldn't wait to get home and practice hitting some long shots. She needed something to look forwards to when as instant drowsiness washed over her the instant Mr Smith opened his mouth to introduce himself.

 

At first, Ymir wouldn't even acknowledge the fact that she had ever spoken to anybody else on the hockey team when they were at school, but recently it had been Ymir who had been gathering them outside the Design & Technology department to have discussions. Historia had been collared on her way out of Geography and dragged her to where Ymir had already gathered Sasha, Mikasa and Annie. 

It was the short interval between their morning lesson and tutorial so there was some time for them to talk, though Historia wondered what could be so urgent that it would be Ymir to gather them all together to talk as students and teachers filed past to get to their next classroom. She seemed to be in the mood to talk quickly and monotonously as though it would make it harder to acknowledge her words.

"Why did you just say we should have an extra practice?" Mikasa asked, the snap in her tone initially only making Ymir roll her eyes.

"Because. That team Annie knows wanted to come and see us, to see if we're any good. If you ask me this is because of you and Christa and I'm the responsible one here for proposing an extra practice so we don't look like complete shit." 

"Speak for yourself," Annie mumbled. 

"What was that?"

"Oh, actually, it will have to be tonight," Sasha interjected brightly. Either she was slow to keep up with these conversations, or it was no coincidence that she always steered the topic back to where it should have been when tensions were being pulled tighter. "I have work every other night after school."

"Every other night?" Ymir asked.

"Yes. Work. Nothing else," Sasha replied meekly. Historia had no idea why she would need to defend her excuse so strongly, but then it was very possible that Ymir knew something that nobody else did. Historia suspected that it was just like Ymir to hide things and act so flippantly about doing so. 

"Nobody else has anything to do tonight, do they?" Historia asked, hoping that she was successful in hiding her irritation that Ymir would be keeping things from her. "We can just go to West Park after school." 

Aside from Sasha, who was nodding enthusiastically at Ymir's prompting, the reaction was subdued. Mikasa and Annie both shrugged and didn't really confirm that they would be there, but it was probably implied. 

 

Historia didn't quite understand the concept of Every Man for Himself Hockey when the rules were explained but after a few confused goals she understood. Mikasa had run through the rules a few times but only Annie seemed to even slightly comprehend how they were supposed to play. Each player was a team of their own but in order to set up goals, temporary alliances could be made wherein players who assisted the goal got a point but the same players couldn't team up to score consecutive goals. 

Historia only really understood when Mikasa passed the ball to her and yelled for her to pass it back after running up the make-shift pitch. Mikasa called the goal and almost immediately, Annie was dribbling in the opposite direction and shooting at the open goal. 

Ymir and Sasha were the only ones who had not scored at that point, but instead of teaming up as Historia might have anticipated, Ymir tackled Sasha and swept the ball away from around the very confused Sasha's feet before thwacking the ball to Historia before Mikasa could hook the ball away. 

At first Historia was going to pass the ball, but then she decided against it. She had no reason to pass to anybody else. Ymir would already get the point anyway but Historia knew she could finish this off by herself. She broke into a run, not letting the ball roll too far ahead of her as she weaved around Annie. Mikasa was the only obstacle left, having run to the top end of the field as soon as Ymir had passed the ball, and Historia took a chance and raised her stick, whacking the ball as hard as she could at the goal. Nothing that day had made her as elated as watching Mikasa leap out of the way of the oncoming ball as it flew between the bags they had set up as goalposts. 

It became fun once Historia decided she sort of understood what was going on. She was careful not to accept passes from people she'd teamed up with the play before. She realised her mistake when Sasha called out ball and Christa was there to accept the pass even though they had together scored a goal before and Mikasa was quick to inform them they had both lost a point as she swept by and fired the ball into the goal herself.

Not long after Historia had racked up eight points, a modest achievement beside Annie and Mikasa's scores that were quickly approaching thirty, a new rule was introduced wherein the players eligible for scoring a point during a play would be reset to zero once every player on the field had made contact with the ball. Historia already felt the game complex enough without that rule, though it was no accident Mikasa implemented that rule immediately after Annie scored her last three points by being the fifth player to make contact with the ball. Mikasa and Annie gave each other markedly unreadable looks and Historia wondered whether such a rule was meant to help or hinder Annie's score.

It ended up being a help to Annie, who from then on made sure she was first to get the ball and first to pass to every player once Mikasa had gained position of the ball. 

Just when Historia was reaching her limit, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead and the sides of her face, her chest heaving with more effort than she thought she could have managed, her legs trembling with fatigue, the game was over. Annie had won by a large margin. Historia wasn't really counting anybody's score but her own and reaching twenty one points in a game she could barely comprehend had depleted her ability to care about what the other girls had for. She could barely stand and she simply wanted to collapse somewhere reasonably comfortable and sleep for a hundred years.

"You okay?" Ymir asked. She was panting and sweaty but she looked nowhere near as close to giving up on anything more taxing than the functioning of her vital organs as Historia felt.

"Fine," was the reply Historia managed to eke out after taking in several futile breaths.

"Cool. So, I mean. I know we probably all stink now and everything, but do you want to go and get some chicken?"

 

When Hange's team arrived on Saturday morning there were still five players but two were members that Historia hadn't seen the weekend prior. Both of these newcomers were hanging back from those who had been at the game last week and Historia wondered whether it was shyness of strangers. After greeting everybody else, she quickly made her way over to the pair, knowing that Petra and Hange would do well to keep the others occupied, and it was obvious that Christa was the easiest of the five to take to.

Sasha was prone to making illogical leaps in conversation and the other three ranged from deliberately ignorant to plain anti-social. So Historia pasted on Christa's kind smile and started to regret this forwardness slightly when she started to recognise one of the pair. 

They were both blonde and quietly conversing with their heads close together. One had his hair slicked back into a quiff that wouldn't have moved in gale-force conditions and the other's hair fell in subtle waves that stopped at around ear-lobe length. Historia had known someone with hair exactly like that a lifetime ago. It seemed unrealistic that anybody would keep the same hairstyle for eight years - or maybe more because Historia's memories had been getting sketchier recently - but the face was the same too.

Apparently Historia's face had also remained the same because she was greeted with an odd sort of smile. 

"Hello."

"Um, hi. I noticed that we hadn't met the two of you before."

"No you haven't," Quiff said. He sniffed and added, "We weren't needed last week."

There was no bitterness in his voice. He simply said it as though it was a simple fact of life, which was odd because Historia certainly detected some tightness around his eyes and in the line of his shoulders.

"It is very nice of you to come along this week for our training session."

"The pleasure is all ours, and what have you. I'm Gerger and this tramp is Nanaba," Quiff said, holding out a hand that Historia daintily took to shake.

"I'm Christa." Immediately, Nanaba'a lips curled and Historia looked away to avoid any unecessary eye-contact. She and Nanaba had definitely met before. They had both registered more than a passing recognition. There was still every hope that there was nothing to worry about though. Perhaps Nanaba didn't like to talk about spending years in children's homes. 

After making polite conversation, asking how long they had played hockey for and how regularly, giving them both a rundown of the girls on her team, and applying a little of that good old Christa magic, Historia made herself scarce and rejoined her team mates. It didn't matter, anyway. They were just here to play a little bit of hockey and learn a few things about passing and dribbling. That was all. 

These little lessons were given in some odd hockey match where the teams were matched member for member with their marks who coached them a bit. Except for Christa, because she decided to go in goal. She had expected Petra to be in the same position as her in the goal at the other end of the pitch, seeing as she had played in goal at the match the week before, but she was marking a very sullen looking Annie and in the opposition goal was Nanaba. It was a little bit frustrating, but Historia had to remind herself that there was nothing to worry about. It wasn't the sort of thing that would ever come out in conversation. 

Goodness, Ymir had even been living with Historia for months and didn't seem to have a clue that her mother was not a biological relation. Everything would be fine.

It seemed that she was not the only one with things weighing on her mind though. Gerger and Mikasa both jumped back in unison as Annie dashed by them, thrashing her hockey stick about as though that aggression could be mistaken for dribbling. Petra trailed along behind at a safe distance, wearing an apologetic expression, but she wasn't really doing much else.

Historia recalled the last time she had seen Annie look this aggressive while playing and that was the match she played in before joining their team. That time there had been quite a few casualties and Historia hoped history would not repeat itself here.

It did though.

Maybe fifteen minutes after the practice began, Sasha came a little too close to Annie when she tried to tackle Petra. It was all a little confusing for Historia who was so far away, but she could hear Sasha calling out to Hange, asking whether she was attempting the tackle correctly. Historia heard the thwack, and the scream, and she sprinted across the field. 

Historia reached Sasha in time to be in the danger zone when Annie slapped away Mikasa's hand and shoved her back.

"What's your problem?" Mikasa snapped as she tossed her stick aside and pushed Annie right over. "At least apologise."

Annie immediately kicked her foot out at Mikasa's shin, a weak challenge considering knew Mikasa was wearing shin-pads but she sat up gracefully and said, "I am very sorry Sasha, I will take you to A&E to make sure you are properly okay."

"There's no need for that," Sasha said, her voice muffled by the hands that were still clutching her face. Histora was unable to get a look at the damage as she crouched beside the other girl and she doubted this was really the environment to even attempt to do so. 

After a tap on her boot, Historia looked up to see Ymir smiling goofily down at her, as though any of this was funny at all. 

"There, see. I've apologised," Annie snarled. "Now you apologise."

"Me? What for?" 

Annie stood and squared up to Mikasa, the ferocity not leaving her eyes despite the height difference that was skewed in Mikasa's favour. Most of the other team had also gathered around, but their concern was more for Sasha's face. Hange's partner Moblit, however, looked ready to jump between the two girls as though he could really do anything to prevent the situation from escalating. Historia doubted that he could. He had never seen Annie and Mikasa exchange blows before but she knew it was something that would take several people to break up.

"You pu-" Annie stopped. Her eyes swept over the people gathered around Sasha before she set her face into a hard look and said, "Fine. Don't apologise. Just tell me what I'm doing here."

Mikasa shrugged.

"Who wanted me to be here? Who asked me to be here? What is the point of me being here now? You think I'm going to take this from you? You're dead wrong."

Mikasa's face slackened and Historia almost felt sorry for her. Aside from the fact that this was her fault. "Wait-"

"Don't worry. I'm still playing. Don't think I want you anywhere near me when we're off the pitch though."

Annie stalked off and Historia wondered whether she was really going to walk home dressed in her hockey kit. She felt another tap on her foot and when she looked up, Ymir tipped her head in Annie's direction. Historia shook her head and gestured to Sasha who was mumbling quietly to Petra who had taken up post as first aider. Ymir nodded, saluted, and jogged after Annie, stopping to grab their bags on the way. 

Sasha's face seemed to be fine, Petra didn't think there were any fractures, and she was trying to force out giggles instead of the trembling sobs that were threatening to escape. Historia understood. Obviously getting hit in the face with a hockey stick hurt, but Sasha was trying to be Sasha and that meant being cheerful and happy-go-lucky regardless of the circumstances. She was still trying to laugh when Petra said she was going to take her to the hospital. She was still trying to laugh as Petra and Mikasa helped her off the field. It was a bit of a walk from here to any of the park gates, and even then they would have to find where Petra had parked.

It was just Historia with Hange, Moblit, Nanaba and Gerger. 

"Well," Hange said, "You can't really practice on your own, so is there anything you want to do?"

Moblit looked thoughtful and said, "We could-"

"I'm not asking you. Christa-"

"Actually, Christa told me earlier that she needed to visit the crem today and I said I would take her. She said she didn't want her friends to know."

Gerger gave Nanaba a confused look. He was hesitating to speak, but he didn't say a word. He shook his head and looked away as though that wouldn't give away his apparent confusion.

"The crem?" Hange asked. 

"Crematorium," Moblit said.

Hange looked around blankly.

"Where people get cremated," Gerger snapped as though he had to deal with Hange's blank looks quite often. Historia suspected Moblit had to put up with that a lot more often but was resigned to the fact that it happened. "It's a cemetery as well. Just in case you don't know what that is it is where people get buried. After they've died if that wasn't clear enough to you."

Hange looked shocked and Moblit seemed to be building up the courage to say something in her defence when Nanaba frowned and elbowed Gerger in the arm. Gerger apologised though. "Sorry Hange. I didn't mean to treat you like you were stupid."

"That's fine, don't worry about it."

"Cool. Oh, and Nanaba, here are the keys to your car that I have in my pocket for some reason. How odd that I would have the car keys of somebody who is so cool and good-looking, and talented, and-"

"This isn't... one of those things," Nanaba said quietly.

"Oh right. Cool. See you at home later then?"

"Yeah." Nanaba's voice went all soft then. Gerger's response was to point finger guns at both Historia and Nanaba while winking before turning on his heel. 

"I call shotgun, Moblit."

"Why? What are you talking about?"

"You're giving me a lift."

"I'm... what?"

Moblit trotted after Gerger, making confused whining noises because he couldn't quite form words. And then Hange sprinted past both him and Gerger, yelling words that remained in her wake as she went. "I call driver's seat."

"What?"

"You can't fucking do that," Gerger growled as he kicked into a run to catch up with her. "Moblit you'd better stop her."

Nanaba was doubled over with laughter at the whole thing, clutching at Historia's arm until they couldn't even hear how Hange and Gerger's voices rang out. Nanaba stood up straight and smiled at Historia.

"How long has it been?"

"I don't know," Historia asked. "A while. When did you leave?"

"I got out maybe a year after you. I thought it would never happen, but instead of choosing one of the cute ones they picked me."

"Congratulations," Historia said a little stiffly. She didn't really want to know. She didn't want to be asked anything else about adoption. She just wanted to go home and pretend that Christa was all that there ever had been. 

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"What is it?"

"Hange has some pretty big events coming up and she asked me to help her out with her make-up. She wants to look really pretty, right. I know she's super cute already, but she wants to look sophisticated. The only problem is that I don't really have that much expertise. So you look like you know a thing or two about war paint, so could you lend me some wisdom to impart?"

"Why can't she just Google it?"

"She wanted to ask the advice of a trusted friend. And I'm asking you."

"No," Historia said quietly.

"Please. I don't know much about girly things, and Hange didn't really get told about them either."

"Most other people have to work it out for themselves."

"Please."

"Ask Petra."

Nanaba smiled wryly. "I'd rather not. For, uh, personal reasons. Pretty please," Nanaba pleaded like a child begging their parents for something expensive. "It would really help me out, Christa." 

It felt strange having Nanaba call her that. That wasn't a name that Nanaba had ever really known her as and it wasn't one she wanted people from the past to know either. But she didn't want Nanaba to call her Historia either. Historia was the rough, angry child that hated everything. Historia was the one who nobody particularly liked. Historia needed to be saved and cute, kind, Christa was the one to do that to her.

But Nanaba had already latched onto something here, as though the secret was out. Asking Christa directly was the final step to the spell, because Christa was loved by all because she couldn't say no. So even though Historia again wanted to say no, Christa immediately acquiesced and agreed to pass on her knowledge of make-up to Nanaba the next day. 

 

It was not that Historia had other plans - Ymir apparently did because she had left early that morning without even a thought for Historia, or even her beloved Christa, without even a hint to what she was doing that day - but she found it irritating that she had been told to expect Nanaba to arrive at one time, only for one o'clock to sail past. 

She kept getting up from the sofa, the curtains twitching with her curiosity but Nanaba did not arrive. She wondered whether something had happened to Nanaba. The alternative made Historia's lip curl in disgust. In the past she had known the people who would make plans with her and cancel them far too late to retain an ounce of politeness. She somehow managed to maintain the cheeriness everyone knew her for when a friend cancelled their plans to go shopping when she was already in town but her patience and tolerance seemed to have reduced with age. 

By this point it felt like a waste of the precious moments of her life to put up with people who could barely pay her common courtesy. 

The clock ticked past twenty to two before Nanaba knocked on the window, and then the door, apologising sheepishly when Historia finally opened the door. 

"I'm so sorry, bab," Nanaba gushed breathlessly. "I think they changed the bus route because it took a wrong turn off the main road and went all 'round the Wrekin. Well, maybe not a wrong turn because there were bus stops and people kept getting on and off the bus as though it was normal, so I suppose I was the only one not to know. I'm sorry. Really."

There was a pause when Historia contemplated turning Nanaba away at the door as she had no real desire to pretend to teach Nanaba about make-up. But then her mother was coming to the front door to see why their guest had still not been let into the house. 

Historia tilted her head to the side and smiled in the way that made people's faces soften and disarmed the harshest of moods. "Honestly there is no need for you to apologise so much. It's my fault. Had I known you were coming by bus, I would have given you directions." 

Nanaba's eyes seemed to narrow but moments later Historia's gestures to a seat in the living room were being followed and Historia's mother was eating out of Nanaba's hands as though she had never received such a charming guest. She got a bit silly and giggly whenever people commented on her looks, or her clothes, or the decor of the house and Historia always found it odd because compliments like those had never been a novelty.

People were always showering Historia's mother with compliments for the most insignificant things. It was though her very breaths were a blessing to the world, and the way things had been going recently, Christa would meet the same fate.

The finally managed to escape up to Historia's bedroom. The first thing she asked Nanaba was, "What's with the pretending to be a dead common, yet oh so charming, yam-yam?"

"You're going to ask me about pretending?"

There wasn't much Historia could say to that. She started getting out her make-up supplies in silence and Nanaba, surprisingly just waited in silence. Childhood Nanaba had been inquisitive to the point of nosiness and mostly got in trouble for rooting around in other people's belongings despite being violently protective of whatever the other kids in the children's home were so interested in. 

There was only so much pottering around Historia could do and then she supposed she had to make some attempt to apply make-up to Nanaba's face. But Nanaba was so close and Historia didn't like the feeling of being stared at. She was probably expected to at least pretend to explain any of what she was doing, but her mouth felt a little bit dry and she really didn't want to have to go through more of this make-believe than she could manage.

After attempting to swipe eyeliner on Nanaba's water-line despite her trembling hands, Historia quietly said, "Close your eyes."

"Why?" 

"Because it is easier for me to do your make-up that way." 

Nanaba scoffed but then Historia's eyes were no longer met with the steady stare that made her skin feel transparent. It was an obvious lie, but so was Nanaba's lie about wanting tips on cosmetics. Nanaba could have asked anybody really if it was true about wanting to pass on make-up tips to Hange. Hange could do her own make-up if she wanted. She could experiment herself or she could look it up on the internet. 

Nanaba must have had an ulterior motive, though not quite knowing what Nanaba's thoughts about Historia were was unsettling.

Historia could switch Christa on and off whenever she felt like it, but here she was in her room with Nanaba who had known Historia before Christa existed. What made things worse was that Nanaba had been around when Christa had just started to emerge.

Nanaba had known Historia when she was a dull and selfish little child. She was exactly that now, but Christa was desperate to be loved by everybody. Christa worked hard at school and helped out everyone, even if it was just with cursory acts of kindness, so everybody loved her. Historia knew what motivated her own actions too, but thinking about how she really was in comparison left her agitated and guilty. 

It was strange being alone with someone who knew there was more than just Christa. Ymir had seen through Christa the first time they had met and loudly rejected her offer of a place to sleep. Ymir didn't go until Historia stopped asking nicely around a fortnight later. Historia was intrigued by how Ymir was able to tell that Christa was just a very well practiced act, though that had never been the only interest she had in Ymir. 

Ymir was tall and lithe with bronze skin that never cared to be gold. Ymir said whatever she wanted and nobody thought any differently of her for voicing her true thoughts. Christa had wanted to invite Ymir into her home to be kind and loved so there was another who might do her a favour one day, but Historia wanted to get Ymir naked and know every atom of her from the inside out.

But Historia didn't feel that way at all about Nanaba, so the way she was drawn to Ymir might not have been because she could sense Historia's true nature. Historia did trust Nanaba though. In the children's home, both Historia and Nanaba appeared to have little interest in others. Historia would go along as a dress-up doll for some of the bigger girls until she got bored and bit and pinched them until they let her go. Historia remembered that Nanaba on the other hand was one of the big girls who played alone, putting on silent shows for herself with her knees the stage for wilting paper dolls. Though a lot of the time Historia also thought that Nanaba was one of the big boys who wasn't allowed to play football simply because the biggest of the big boys decided he didn't like Nanaba one bit, so he went on walks around the garden and drew pictures of all the insects he could find to make into paper dolls. 

Historia was wary of Nanaba and that was about the sum of her feelings. She wondered whether Nanaba felt the same. Without ever really knowing one another, they knew more about each other than maybe anybody else. 

"Do you want to know about the team?" Nanaba asked when the silence had gone on too long. 

"Not really. You can open your eyes now."

"Cool. It's a really interesting story."

Historia doubted it, but she said, "Go ahead."

"There were more of us, so we played as an eleven-man team, but Rene and Henning couldn't afford to dedicate as much time to it. They couldn't take as much time off to train, or even come to games, so they went on a hiatus from the team. In fact, when we were younger there was more of a hockey scene, and there were more of us. A lot of us were from different teams and when we were in school we had organised a league, and we even played one or two international matches. But people moved on, went to uni, and we became a more concentrated unit. The first of our team members to leave was Rico. She was nice, but she was a bit funny and she pretended that she didn't really like Petra. In reality she loved Petra to bits, but her boyfriend had gone down to London for university and she decided to follow him. She came back though. I think she teaches at your school."

Nanaba smiled gently as Historia considered blusher shades. It was a nice smile, though it was a smile that knew too much.

"Nobody even mentioned you when we went to their Aberystwyth game. Do you not play often?"

"No, not really. Gerger doesn't play much either."

"Why?"

"You must have seen how good they are. Now that we're down to nine, we can only play five-a-side games and we have six players who are thirsty for any chance to even talk about playing hockey and a seventh who pretends he doesn't care even though he is probably the best of the lot."

"Annie and Mikasa are better than me but that doesn't mean I want to give up."

"You're young and you have your whole life ahead of you. You're nothing like the emotionless little girl I remember."

"You're exactly as I remember. You talk too much."

"When did I ever talk too much?"

"Never, but I remembered that you'd always smile when you were confused and it's easier to put blusher on your cheeks that way."

Nanaba smiled wider and through thin lips muttered, "You scare me a little bit."

Historia didn't want to give the reply that Nanaba scared her a bit too. Her hands may have faltered as the thought crossed her mind though. 

Nanaba actually looked good, even if Historia did say so herself. All that was left was the finished touch of lipstick. And maybe Historia kneeling up and cradling Nanaba's jaw and using her little finger to smooth a splodge of gentle pink across Nanaba's lower lip looked akin to a compromising situation when Ymir barged into the room saying, "Hey, so what is your opinion on crystal healing?"

"I don't really have an opinion," Historia said steadily. It took a second for Ymir to register what was going on before she swore and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Is everything okay?"

"No," Historia said. She wanted to swear and storm out of the room too. Ymir liked to make her own deductions and stick to them, regardless of any explanation. Historia needed to give her an explanation and make her really listen to it. "Can you leave now?"

"Yeah, sure," Nanaba said. "Good luck though."

When Nanaba had gone, departing with a cheery "Ta-ra a bit" to Historia's mother, Historia rushed outside to where Ymir's stupid bright green car was parked against the curb outside the house.

The door to Ymir's car was unlocked and Historia slipped into the passenger seat as Ymir's fingers fumbled with the lighter held to the end of the cigarette between her lips. She seemed to give up when Historia was sat next to her and she slumped back in the driver's seat. 

"I didn't know you smoked," Historia said evenly. 

"I don't."

"Then why are you-"

"Shhhh. Just shush. I had a bad day, alright." Her eyes were screwed shut and her lips were pressed tightly together. 

"Why were you alone in your room with that, uh, Nanaba, was it?"

"I was passing on make-up advice," Historia said. Ymir didn't look any less tense. 

"I don't know about make-up advice. I'd put my money on him wanting in your knickers." 

"Him?"

"Not a him?"

"I don't think so. Though I don't think Nanaba is particularly fond of being called 'her' either," Historia said, remembering how aggressively Nanaba would ignore the calls of people in the children's home. It made a bit more sense when she considered that maybe Nanaba would not have been so angry with everybody all of the time if easy words were available to describe the situation.

"Him, her, it. What's the difference?"

"There's a lot of difference, Ymir. There's no need to be so disrespectful just because you're having a bad day. People are people no matter how you feel at any given time, so you should treat them as such."

Ymir sighed and slapped her forehead before attempting to light her cigarette again. This time she was successful and she inhaled as though her life was dependent on the tobacco. Her lids were heavy as her lips parted to let a stream of smoke escape. This seemed to bring her back to her usual persona as she looked askance at Historia and sighed. 

"You know what, I really don't care. There's nobody around to give you a medal for being some spokes-person for downtrodden weirdoes. There's no need to impress people by acting like a saint, because I'm the only one here."

"I'm not pretending."

"Oh, so you are a saint," Ymir grumbled, rolling down the window a crack. She frowned as she blew smoke out in the direction of the window and Historia wondered if she was even aware of how considerate her intentions were.

"No, I'm not saying that."

"Well, it doesn't matter because I know exactly what kind of person you are, you know? You're a genuine, nice person. You think of people all the time and you are just so perfect and pure. It annoys the hell out of me, but that's you. Whether you're nice because that's really who you are, or because you want people to appreciate you, you're being true to yourself, aren't you?" 

"Am I?"

"Don't try to get all reflective on me. You're a better woman than I could ever hope to be. I'm just pretending to be funny and like I don't have a care in the world but... I'm a horrible, horrible person. All I do is ruin people's lives. It's so stupid."

The cigarette was burning down to the butt, and Ymir had hardly taken any drags since the initial few. Her hands were trembling and whatever she had done to steady her nerves had been undone with a few words. She wound the window all the way down and flicked the smoking butt out of the window.

"I don't think I would mind it too much if you were to ruin my life."

"Shut up," Ymir grumbled, but she was smiling. Historia had made her smile and if nothing else, she had managed to diminish some of this foul mood. "There you go being nice and wonderful again. A pleasure to have in class."

Historia tried not to react to the bland statement she had heard so many times from teachers over the years. Instead she wondered whether her mother was inside twitching the curtains, and what her mother even thought of Ymir despite the fact she graciously accepted the girl into her home.

"Want a fag?"

Historia looked back to Ymir and instantly had a box of candy sticks shoved in her face. In the children's home they weren't allowed sweets like this after some of the older children pretended they were cigarettes as it was deemed a bad influence. She hesitated, even though there was nobody around to tell her off for it, and she felt a little bit stupid.

"You can even have the Spiderman tattoo if you like," Ymir wheedled with a shake of the box.

Historia took two candy sticks and stuck them under her top lip like fangs. They didn't stay where she wanted them to but Ymir did smile wider and mumble something about Nosferatu. Even if there was nobody in the car who would reward Historia for weakly attempting to nudge people around her into political correctness, she felt as though the rewards from cheering up Ymir wouldn't stop.

"Why don't you try to cheer me up. Tell me about how your friend Armin totally has a boner for that guy with one arm." 

For some reason Historia was smiling and perhaps it was because being around Ymir was good for her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> specifically rape/murder/a traumatised young girl

After their first match, Sasha decided that she didn't want to have any chicken. She told the girls she would be fine walking home seeing as she lived the closest to the field where the match had been arranged for but she could not help but feel a little put out that as she walked away she could hear Ymir demanding to know who was buying the chicken for them today.

They never had that conversation when Sasha stayed. She was always the one who paid. Even if it meant she had to ask her dad for a few extra fivers here and there just because her wages wouldn't quite cover it. She always felt horrible asking her dad for the money, and maybe the guilt was more that it could have been because he was always so keen to part with his money for her.

They frequently ran out of money on both the gas and electric meters and Sasha had to stop counting all the times she had snooped around her dad's post to find lots of letters with lots of red numbers on them. Moving North was supposed to give them some breathing room in terms of money but the debts had followed them no matter how Sasha tried to change her accent and work at the stables after school.

But that sort of stuff didn't bother her today because she had played her first hockey match and she was the one who scored the winning point. That meant she did something important. She could pretend she was in integral part of the team. She was no Mikasa or Annie, but she was fast and she wasn't scared of getting hit. She couldn't be scared, not after the time Annie accidentally hit her two weeks ago. Her eye was still bruised purple, but at least the blood-clotted blackness had receded slightly. She couldn't wait until she got back to normal though. She'd had her fill of looking like a tough girl after the first week of having a swollen and bloodshot eye that could barely open.

She had a few more bruises though.

Annie was having trouble shaking off her mark, and Ymir was even goading hers - not that it really did much in the grand scheme of things - but Sasha was the only one free when Mikasa was calling out to pass. There was only so long she could try dribbling around and keeping the ball away from her mark. So Sasha dashed up the pitch and moved in a soft arc across the grass and wordlessly accepted the ball. She managed to dance around it and keep it just in front of her feet as she ran back down the pitch.

Her mark did catch up with her at some point and she tried to sweep the ball away, but Sasha remembered what Hanji had taught her - how to quickly transition into the Indian Dribble - and she smoothly moved the ball to just left of her feet while turning her stick backwards to keep the flat side directing the ball. She kept zig-zagging as she went and she was not so good that there were no openings for a tackle, but her mark was surprised by it.

Maybe her mark was being cautious because she had already incurred two fouls in the match, one of those was against Sasha when she went for a tackle and smacked her stick into the back of Sasha's ankle where she was unprotected. That cautious hesitation was the perfect opportunity though and Sasha as easily able to shake her off as she dribbled around the half-hearted reach by Ymir's mark to hit the ball hard enough that it sailed through the goal.

It was Sasha's moment of glory and people were cheering because of what she did for the team. It was great. She had done something worth being proud of. Maybe her celebrating went on for a bit too long because her squealing and stamping had to be interrupted by Ymir patting her on the back and telling her to get a wriggle on, but she managed not to undo it all by allowing a goal. She ran around to the open side of her mark and their sticks clashed as she went to steal away the ball. And it was fine. Her goal was the last of the match and she had actually helped her team to win.

But she didn't want to eat chicken.

She wanted some time to herself, though she regretted not trying to get a lift because the was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and her long socks were one thing but her arms had erupted in goose bumps. Now that she wasn't running around and sweating, she was freezing. She stretched out her fingers and clenched them again as she walked, increasing her pace in a bid to warm herself up a little bit.

She stopped dead though. She swore she heard a muffled scream. It might just have been some people messing about, a joke that didn't really mean anything, but then she heard a clang of metal and a growl. Just to be on the safe side, Sasha went to have a look.

If everything was fine, she could always just pretend to be lost.

She looked around before getting her phone ready in her hand, 999 already dialled to save time. She edged down the alley she though the sound was coming from and almost tripped over a child.

"Oh, shi- hi. Are you okay?"

The child stared up at her blankly. There was a large blackcurrant stain on the child's dress and Sasha wondered how much trouble the girl was going to get in for ruining the white dress. that became the least of her concerns, when she heard the rustling and grappling noise coming from behind the huge silver bin at the far end of the alley.

"Hello?" She called out, tightening her grip on her phone.

There was no reaction to her voice and the kerfuffle at the end of the alley continued. She slid her phone into her hoodie pocket and slung her kit bag off her shoulder. After a steadying breath, she wielded the bag that held her stick like a sabre. This was her time to be quick and stealthy. She could be quick and she had proven as such today. Now was time to test how sneaky she could be.

Carefully she took each step, planting her feet onto the ground and making sure she wouldn't slip or make more sound than a cat's footstep. She got closer and still there was no reaction to her presence.

What she saw made her sick. She wanted to vomit and cry and run away. Her hands were sweaty, and not just her hands because her back and her armpits prickled with sweat too. She couldn't breathe and she wasn't sure she would be able to move.

There was a woman, groaning quietly, continuously, and her eyes were unseeing. Sasha wanted to know what had happened but she hoped she could go back in time and never know anything of this sort. The man above the woman was muttering and growling - sounds that when mixed with the woman's groans sounded like some savage song of misery, despair, hate, death. She was going to die.

She couldn't move and when the man was done with that woman he would turn on Sasha and then the kid. Sasha would die and her first victory would mean nothing. It wouldn't mean a thing to anybody except for maybe a half-hearted obituary.

She had friends and maybe a really great future ahead of her. Who knew what could happen. She needed to move. She needed to run away. She needed to not have to hear even a syllable more propel itself from the man's lips. She needed not to realise that the woman was dying. That something must have happened to her, some injury that made her this way. Something to shut down her defences and make her easy and pliable for the man to do all manner of unspeakable things.

A huge sob burst from Sasha's chest.

The man looked over his shoulder.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Sasha really didn't want to die. Not now. Not when things were going right.

She swung. With all her might, she swung just the way that she did when she scored the winning goal, but in reverse. There was a deafening crack and then the man groaned, the eerie noise now in stereo. He stopped though. He didn't move. The woman didn't move either. Sasha looked down the alley to see that the little girl hadn't moved all this time. She had to move though. She tried to use her stick to nudge the man off the woman, but there was a break in the wood and it was useless.

She backed away. She tripped and fell over her own feet, clinging to the hockey stick because that was her lifeline here. She rolled over and scrambled up and away, sweeping the little girl along with her until they reached the mouth of the alley.

She could still think straight. She took her phone from her pocket and called pressed the call button. She knew what she needed to do, but asking for the police proved more difficult than she would have imagined before she was in this situation. They were asking for a street name and Sasha had no idea. She was sort of new around here and she only knew where things were in relation to the parade of shops just around the corner. She was trembling and sobbing for the duration of the call and it amazed her that the woman in the emergency services response centre wasn't fed up of her by the time she managed to give an approximate location. It took all the courage she had to tell the woman on the phone about the woman in the alley, the woman who was probably dying and the man who deserved that fate a lot more.

All she needed to do was wait. She didn't want to be anywhere near the man and the woman in the alley. Things like that didn't happen. Nobody did awful things, really. But there was proof mere feet away and Sasha didn't feel quite so happy about the state of things. It was difficult to imagine that while she had been so excited about contributing to a hockey win, someone in the world had been thinking violent thoughts.

She had to know that things like that didn't really happen - that the worst thing that could happen in the world is having to go without electricity for a night because her dad can't afford to top up the meter. The little girl was crouched next to Sasha, staring ahead at nothing in particular and either she was like Sasha and didn't believe in bad things or she just didn't understand. Not that Sasha understood either.

"It's okay," Sasha said with an encouraging smile. Perhaps it didn't have the desired effect because her voice quaked and snot was dribbling down to her lower lip. It would be nice for a reaction. Better yet, it would be nice for someone to tell her the same thing.

She took out her phone again and called the person she thought would most likely offer some reassurance.

"So the man says, 'I had a great day, but I honestly didn't mean that kind of theatre!'"

Sasha was confused. Then again, it wasn't the first time Connie had answered his phone like that, it was simply that Sasha hadn't particularly been thinking about the punch-line to whatever joke he had been telling. She couldn't even remember what the joke was about. Maybe it was the punchline to the joke she was living right now because she certainly didn't want this to be real enough that her lungs were failing her and the only thing she knew she wanted to do was to cry.

"What?" Sasha asked, her voice a high whine that was nearing ultrasonic territory. Connie was laughing at his own joke too much too pay her much mind. She hung up. Tried to breathe. Wondered how she was going to deal with this kid.

Her phone buzzed and automatically she unlocked it to read the text, 'where are you?'

'a&e'

'give me ten minutes'

Ten minutes turned out to be eight minutes. Eight minutes was the target Ambulances aimed for and she wondered whether Connie knew that or it was simply a coincidence. Either way, Sasha had somebody there for her and that was nice. She wanted to tell him she was glad to see him but tears flowed quickly from her eyes and sobs choked her breathing that was getting sticky with the snot she unsuccessfully tried to scrub away with her wrist.

He head felt light and she folded herself on the seat. Connie's hand was too warm on her back and she wondered how he got there, whether he had run or cycled and worked up his blood enough to braise her skin through her T-shirt.

She cried until her eyes were raw and her teeth were icily hollow and Connie was stroking gently at the loose hair at the nape of her neck.

"Who is this?" Connie asked. It might not have been the first time but it was the first chance Sasha had of hearing the question over the sound of her own confusion.

"I'm not sure." She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. Connie leaned around her and asked the child's name as though he thought Sasha hadn't possibly tried that herself already.

She was about to point that out when Connie started making unidentifiable sounds that had the child blinking up at him until she said something intelligible.

"Yagaslava," the girl mumbled.

"What's that?" Sasha asked. "How did you make her talk?"

Connie leaned back in his seat and shrugged at Sasha. He said, "I think she's Slovakian. But she did react to some Polish."

"You can speak Slovakian? And Polish?"

"Not really." Connie pulled a face as though that was all he was going to say on the matter but there must have been something odd about Sasha's face because he sighed and nudged her foot with his own. "I only picked up some Slovakian here and there because of where I live, but... If the only language she reacted to had been Punjabi I wouldn't have been helpful at all. I only know how to listen out for the more creative insults."

It didn't explain much, but Sasha supposed there were bigger things to think about.

Bigger things such as the luminescent jackets of two police officers approaching. Connie held her hand, smiled encouragingly and It was not so bad when she had to go to the police station with Connie still tethering her to the present.

Sasha could objectively say that it was awful attempting to describe what had happened for her statement - Connie was still there though, somewhere in the building with her so it was going to be fine eventually.

It still had to be fine when she left the interview room to find her dad with a face like thunder and a painfully jittery Connie wringing his hands.

It was fine.

Fine.

Absolutely Fine.

Except it was unlikely that Sasha would see anything as terrifying again.

 

 

"Alright, I give up," Connie said into the darkness. There was a moment before the dread started to accumulate within Sasha. She wondered whether this had anything to do with what they were talking about before. She wondered what he was giving up on and she desperately hoped it wasn't her.

She was well aware of her own feelings. Even though she had no intention of acting upon these certain desires, it frightened her to no end that someone was giving up on her. She wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the fact that Connie, of all people, had given up on her without her even knowing that she had had a chance in the first place. But of course the chance would have been one she would have left alone and put on a show of ignorance.

"What do you mean?" Sasha asked when she finally felt brave. Not the kind of brave she tried to muster up before she attempted to save anyone, nor the kind of brave where she went for a tackle against Annie, but the kind of brave where the dark was a comfort. The dark could hide her and the adrenaline still in her system tricked her into thinking she could say anything at all. She had tried to save somebody. She had almost killed a guy. She was questioned by the police. She had done everything, so why would it be difficult to ask someone to elaborate on an orphaned thought.

"For months I have been trying to work it out, right. But now I've met your dad and I'm even more confused. Where are you from? I honestly cannot place your accent at all."

"What?"

"You speak like one of those British characters from American TV shows. It's weird. Your dad has this sort of Scottishy, Indiany, Scouse, Cockney thing going on though so it doesn't help me at all. So where are you from?"

Sasha rolled onto her side and through the darkness she could see the glinting of light reflected in Connie's eyes. Sasha liked Connie's eyes because they were so wide and expressive. It really helped him out when he was pulling faces in ugly-contests with Sasha. It helped Sasha out when she was trying to work out whether or not she was being duped. Connie couldn't really lie, and in the early hours of the morning, Sasha could tell that much.

"We are originally from Essex."

"Shut up!" Connie exclaimed, though it came out more like "sha-aap!" Sasha should probably have expected that.

"Please don't start this."

"Oim wewu jewu. You bin shagar ha' then?" Connie went on.

Sasha groaned and rolled away.

"Oi, are you listening to me?" Connie asked, though it came out more like "Oi, yew lisenin ta me?"

"No, I don't want to listen to this," Sasha replied, pressing her face into her pillow just in case Connie would be able to sense that she was grinning despite everything that had happened.

"Shat it yew sliiig."

"I'm not an Eastenders character, Connie."

"Same thing though, isn't it?" Sasha pressed her smile more firmly into her pillow and she heard Connie continue. "I'm glad that I know now. It was really bothering me. Shall I tell you a secret?"

Sasha flinched at the line drawn down her spine and she took a moment to breathe normally. She was fine. She nodded and said, "Go on then."

"There's this boy at school. Everyone thought he was really stupid all this time but he just took a little bit longer to get things. He tried really hard but nobody took him seriously. A lot of people took the piss. And then a new girl started at the school and she was actually really smart but she was still in a lot of the same classes as he was. They became really good friends but this boy realised he liked the girl in a different way to the way he liked his other friends. But he didn't say anything. He kept his mouth shut and he tried hard not to let her know just in case she didn't like him. But one day she got really hurt and-"

"I like you too," Sasha whispered.

"Eh? What if I wasn't talking about us? What if there were other people who had gone through stuff like that."

"Okay. Whether you like me or not, I like you. I think I'm brave enough to say that after today."

"Cool. That's really cool." The mattress dipped behind Sasha and Connie was kneeling over her and grinning wildly. He poked her in the cheek, said, "Cool. That is so cool. You're the coolest. Okay, let's go to sleep now."

It wasn't the easiest thing to do, to fall asleep. It was easier to do that than to explain to Ymir that her broken hockey stick was currently police evidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I am awful. I basically just want to get this finished and out of the way after abandoning it a year ago. I can't even remember where I was going with it but I am certain this was definitely supposed to happen


End file.
